YOU 
CAN 
SEARCH  ME 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME 


Bring  us  a  plain  omelette  and  one 
dish  of  prunes." — Page  25 

Frontispiece 


YOU  CANT 
SEARCH  ME 


BY  HUGH  McHUGH 

AUTHOR  OF 
'JOHN  HENRY,"  "DOWN  THE  LINE  WITH  JOHN  HENRY," 

"IT'S  UP  TO  YOU,"  "  BACK  TO  THE  WOODS," 
"OUT  FOR  THE  COIN,"  "l  NEED  THE  MONEY," 

"I'M  FROM    MISSOURI,"   BTC. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
GORDON  H.  GRANT 


NEW    YORK 

G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  CO. 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1905, 

BY  G.  W.    DlLLINGHAM   CO. 
ISSUED  FEBRUARY,  1905. 


All  rights  strictly  reierved  and  any  infringement  of 
copyright  will  be  dtalt  with  according  to  law. 


YOU  CAN  SEARCH  ME. 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  PARTNER      .     .     .  n 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SUFFICIENCY     .     .  29 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  BUSY 45 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SHOCK     .    ,    .    .  59 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  EXCITED      ....  72 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SETBACK      ...  90 
JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SURPRISE     .     .    .103 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"  BRING  us  A  PLAIN  OMELETTE  AND  ONE 
DISH  OF  PRUNES." — Frontispiece   ...     25 

TWO  AND  A  HALF  POUNDS  OF  IRON  LANDED 
ON  MY   INSTEP 32 

"YOU   BETCHER   SWEET" 63 

THE     ANSWER     WAS     A     CREAM  -  COLORED 
HORSE  WHICH  LOOKED  AT  ME  SADLY  .      .      73 

A  PRETTY  HOT  LINE  OF   GOODS,   EH  ?  .      .      99 
I  WAS   SO   SURPRISED   I   DROPPED  THE  EGG   113 


YOU  CAN  SEARCH  ME 


CHAPTER  I. 

JOHN   HENRY   GETS  A  PARTNER. 

if  EVEN  weeks  and  then  the 

wedding  bells  will  get 
busy  for  you,  eh, 
Bunch?"  I  chuckled. 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,"  my  old 
pal  Jefferson  replied,  somewhat  dole- 
fully. 

"  I  must  dig  up  a  few  old  shoes  and 
have  a  plate  of  cold  rice  pudding  on 
the  doorstep,"  I  went  on.  "  It's  going 
to  afford  me  a  bunch  of  keen  delight  to 
soak  you  in  the  midriff  with  a  rusty 
patent  leather  and  then  push  a  few 
rice  fritters  in  under  your  coat  collar, 
believe  me  !  " 


12  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

Bunch  tried  to  pull  a  smile,  but  his 
face  didn't  feel  like  working,  and  the 
finish  was  a  mournful  sigh. 

"John,"  he  said, after  the  waiter  had 
crowded  the  sizz-water  into  the  wood 
alcohol,  "  I'm  a  plain  case  of  shrimp !  " 

"Oh,  sush!"  I  said;  "you'll  get 
over  that,  Bunch.  Isn't  it  a  hit  how 
we  young  fellows  begin  to  warm  wise 
to  ourselves  the  moment  we  get  a 
flash  of  the  orange  blossoms.  We 
think  of  the  beautiful  little  lady  we 
are  leading  to  the  altar  and  then  we 
think  of  the  many  beautiful  souses  we 
have  led  by  the  hand,  and  we  begin  to 
ask  ourselves  if  we  are  worthy.  Be- 
fore we  can  get  the  right  answer  the 
preacher  has  dropped  the  flag,  the 
ceremonies  are  over,  and  after  that 
the  struggle  to  supply  three  squares  a 
day  puts  the  boots  to  every  other 
worry ;  am  I  right,  Gonsalvo  ?  " 

"  I  s'pose  so,  John,"  Bunch  replied, 
"  but  it  isn't  a  case  of  rattles  with  me. 
I'm  shy  with  the  mazume,  and  it  looks 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  13 

now  as  if  that  little  trip  to  the  minis- 
ter's will  have  to  be  postponed  in- 
definitely." 

"  Skidoo,  skidoo,  and  quit  me,  Mr. 
Josheimer !  "  I  suggested. 

"  I  mean  it,  John,"  Bunch  came 
back.  "  I  can't  lead  a  girl  like  Alice 
Grey  into  the  roped  arena  of  matri- 
mony when  I  haven't  the  price  of  an 
omelette  for  the  wedding  breakfast, 
now  can  I  ?  " 

"  Great  Scott,  Bunch,  have  you  been 
Chadwicked  for  your  roll  ?  "  I  asked. 
"  Are  you  the  man  from  Ohio  that  was 
so  polite  he  gave  his  bank  to  the 
lady  ?  If  you  are,  it  serves  you  right." 

"  No,  John,"  Bunch  answered 
mournfully,  "  but  I  had  to  go  to  Wash- 
ington on  a  business  trip,  and  while 
there " 

"  Wait,  Bunch,"  I  chipped  in ;  "  I've 
got  you  sized.  While  in  Washington 
you  met  a  couple  of  wise  voices  who 
talked  nothing  but  sure-things,  so  you 


14  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

for  the  Bennings  race  track  to  spill 
your  coin,  eh,  Beau  ?  " 

"Well,  John,  I'll  tell  you  how  it 
was,"  Bunch  tried  to  square  himself. 
"  My  roll  was  just  five  thousand 
strong,  and  I  began  to  wish  for  about 
two  thousand  more,  so  that  I  could 
take  the  little  wife  over  the  wild  waves 
and  point  out  Paris  and  the  Riviera  to 
her.  In  Washington  I  met  a  quick 
talker  named  Ike  Gibson  and  he  played 
me  for  a  good,  steady  listener.  Ii<e 
showered  me  with  cinches  and  in  short 
order  I  was  down  with  Bennings  fe- 
ver. And  then " 

"  I  know  the  answer,  Bunch,"  I 
sighed.  "  You  followed  Ike's  clues 
and  finished  fainting.  I'm  wise.  But, 
say!  Bunch,  didn't  you  pipe  me  with 
the  neck  bruises  often  enough  in  the 
old  days  to  profit  by  my  experience? 
Didn't  I  go  up  against  that  horse  game 
so  hard  that  I  shook  the  whole  com- 
munity, and  aren't  you  on  to  the  fact 
that  the  only  sure  thing  about  a  race 


YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME.  1 5 

track  is  a  seat  on  a  trolley  car  going 
in  the  opposite  direction  ?  " 

"  I  know,  John,"  Bunch  replied, 
"  but  this  looked  awfully  good  to  me, 
and  I  went  after  it." 

"  Did  they  sting  you  for  the  whole 
bundle?  "I  asked. 

"  Not  quite,"  Bunch  answered 
sadly ;  "  but  they  certainly  put  a  crimp 
in  my  wallet.  I'm  only  $1,500  strong 
now,  and  that's  not  enough  to  tip  the 
porter  on  the  honeymoon  journey. 
You  know,  John,  I'm  only  drawing 
$100  a  week  from  the  brokerage  busi- 
ness, and  I'll  get  nervous  if  I  can't 
make  up  a  purse  quicker  than  that. 
I'll  simply  have  to  go  to  Alice  and  Un- 
cle William  Grey  and  get  a  set-back, 
and — say,  John !  I'm  a  polish,  for  fair ! 
Alice  is  making  all  her  preparations, 
and  has  her  mind  fastened  to  the  date, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  and  like  a 
chump  I  go  up  against  that " 

"  Oh,  get  back  from  the  funeral,  get 
back,  Bunch !  "  I  advised.  "  How  of- 


1 6  YOU   CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

ten  have  I  told  you  not  to  cut  a  beef 
about  the  has-happened  ?  You  went 
to  Bennings,  got  dizzy,  did  a  couple 
of  Arabs  and  lose  the  price  of  a  wed- 
ding trip — that's  all.  Now  we  must 
get  that  money  back  before  the  minis- 
ter steps  up  to  start  the  fight." 

"  How  can  I  win  out  $3,500  in  seven 
weeks,  I'd  like  to  know ! "  Bunch 
moaned. 

"  A  cincherine,"  I  came  back.  "  I've 
got  a  scheme  cooking  that  will  put  you 
and  me  all  to  the  splendid  in  short 
order." 

"  Yes,  but  these  schemes  of  yours 
sometimes  get  nervous  prostration," 
Bunch  began  to  fret. 

"  Sush,  now !  "  I  said ;  "  this  is  the 
real  goods.  It  can't  go  wrong.  It's 
just  like  getting  money  from  Carnegie. 
I've  discovered  a  genius." 

"  A  genius !  "  Bunch  repeated ; 
"  what  kind  of  a  genius  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Signor  Beppo  Petro- 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  17 

skinski,  an  Illusionist,"  I  answered, 
"and  he's  aces." 

"  What  does  he  do?  "  asked  Bunch ; 
"  spar  eight  rounds  with  the  piano  or 
sell  Persian  rugs  ?  " 

"  Nix  on  the  hurry  talk,  Bunch,"  I 
said.  "  Petroskinski  is  a  discovery 
of  mine,  and  he's  all  to  the  mustard. 
He's  an  Illusionist,  and  he  can  pull  off 
some  of  the  best  tricks  I  ever  blinked 
at.  Say,  he  has  Hermann  and  Keller 
and  all  those  guys  backed  up  in  a  cor- 
ner yelling  for  help.  Skinski  is  our 
mint,  and  we're  going  to  take  him  out 
over  the  one-night  stands  and  drag  a 
fortune  away  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Reub." 

"  You  mean  you're  going  to  finance 
a  tour  for  this  unknown  magician  and 
expect  to  win  out?  Say,  John,  don't 
let  my  troubles  affect  your  brain;  I'll 
be  good  and  stop  crying !  " 

"  I  mean,  Bunch,  that  Skinski  is  the 
wonder  of  the  age,  and  all  we  have  to 
do  is  to  show  him  to  the  public  and 


l8  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

they'll  be  handing  us  their  jewelry. 
You  know,  Bunch,  I'm  a  few  chips  shy 
myself  on  account  of  a  side  play  which 
my  wife  knows  nothing  about.  I 
promised  her  to  make  a  first  payment 
of  $5,000  on  that  new  home  we're  go- 
ing to  buy  on  the  first  of  the  year,  and 
I  fell  down  and  broke  my  promise.  I 
thought  I  could  drag  the  homestead 
money  away  from  the  Street,  so  I  took 
a  few  slices  of  Amalgamated  Copper 
and  burned  my  thumb.  Old  Colonel 
Frenzied  Finance  didn't  do  a  thing  to 
me.  When  I  yelled  for  help  my  pocket- 
book  looked  like  a  last  season's  au- 
tumn leaf  in  the  family  Bible.  Peaches 
isn't  wise  that  I've  lost  my  roll,  so  it's 
up  to  me  to  make  good  before  she 
screams  for  a  receiver." 

"  But  this  Skinski  proposition," 
Bunch  groaned ;  "  isn't  that  taking  a 
long  chance  ?  Clara  J.  was  always  bit- 
terly opposed  to  you  having  anything 
to  do  with  a  theatrical  venture — what 
will  she  say  ?  " 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME,  19 

"  Peaches  needn't  be  in  on  this  at 
all,"  I  said.  "  We'll  simply  put  up  a 
thousand  each  for  the  expense  money, 
start  Petroskinski,  and  after  the  open- 
ing night  began  to  gather  in  the  ma- 
zooboes.  When  we  get  all  the  money 
we  need,  we'll  sell  our  interest  and 
bow  out.  It's  a  pipe,  Bunch.  I  tell 
you,  this  Skinski  has  them  all  faded 
to  a  whisper.  He  has  a  bunch  of  new 
illusions  that  will  simply  make  the 
jay  audiences  sit  up  and  throw  money 
at  us.  And  as  for  sleight-of-hand  and 
card  tricks,  well,  say!  Skinski  can 
throw  a  new  pack  of  cards  up  in  the 
air  and  bite  his  initials  on  the  queen 
of  diamonds  before  it  hits  the  floor. 
He's  a  marvel." 

"  Where  did  you  find  him  ?  "  Bunch 
inquired. 

"  At  a  club  smoker,"  I  answered. 
"  He  was  the  hit  of  the  evening.  He 
pulled  a  few  snake  tricks  down  there 
and  in  five  minutes  he  had  all  the 


2O  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

members  of  the  Highball  Association 
climbing  the  water  wagon.  That  was 
the  same  evening  I  took  Clara  J.  to 
the  St.  Regis  to  dinner.  Did  I  ever 
tell  you  about  it,  Bunch  ?  Well,  say,  it 
may  help  you  to  forget  your  troubles. 
It's  a  swell  joint,  all  right,  O.  K.,  is 
the  St.  Regis,  but  hereafter  me  for 
the  beanery  thing  with  the  high  stool 
and  the  low  prices. 

"  In  the  St.  Regis  the  faces  of  the 
clerks  and  the  clocks  gave  token  that 
much  money  changed  hands  while  it 
was  building. 

"  In  the  lobby  the  furniture  was 
covered  with  men  about  town,  who 
sat  around  with  a  checkbook  in  each 
hand  and  made  faces  at  the  cash  regis- 
ters. 

"  There  are  more  bellboys  than  bed- 
rooms in  the  hotel.  They  use  them 
for  change.  Every  time  you  give  the 
cashier  $15  he  hands  you  back  $1.50 
and  six  bellboys. 

"  We  took  a  peep  at  the  diamond- 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  21 

backed  dining-room  and  when  I  saw 
the  waiters  refusing  everything  but 
certified  checks  in  the  way  of  a  tip,  I 
said  to  Peaches,  '  This  is  no  place  for 
us ! '  But  she  wouldn't  let  go,  and  we 
filed  in  to  the  appetite  killery. 

"A  very  polite  lieutenant-waiter, 
with  a  sergeant-waiter  and  two  cor- 
poral-waiters, greeted  us  and  we  gave 
the  countersign,  '  Abandon  wealth,  all 
ye  who  enter  here.' 

"  Then  the  lieutenant-waiter  and  his 
army  corps  deployed  by  columns  of 
four  and  escorted  us  to  the  most  ex- 
pensive looking  trough  I  ever  saw  in  a 
dining-room. 

"  '  Peaches/  I  said  to  my  wife,  '  I'm 
doing  this  to  please  you,  but  after  I 
pay  the  check,  it's  me  to  file  a  petition 
in  bankruptcy.' 

"  But  she  only  grinned,  picked  up 
the  point-lace  napkin  and  began  to  ad- 
mire the  onyx  furniture. 

" '  Que  souhaites  vous? '  said  the 
waiter,  bowing  so  low  that  I  could  feel 


22  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

a  chill  running  through  my  little  bank 
account. 

" '  I  guess  he  means  you/  I  whis- 
pered to  Peaches,  but  she  looked  very 
solemnly  at  the  menu  card  and  began 
to  bite  her  lips. 

" '  Je  suis  tout  a  votre  service'  the 
waiter  cross-countered  before  I  could 
recover,  and  he  had  me  gasping.  It 
never  struck  me  that  I  had  to  take  a 
course  in  French  before  entering  the 
St.  Regis  hunger  foundry,  and  there 
I  sat  making  funny  faces  at  the  table- 
cloth, while  my  wife  blushed  crimson 
and  the  waiter  kept  on  bowing  like  an 
animated  jack-knife. 

"  '  Say,  Mike ! '  I  ventured  after  a 
bit ;  '  tip  us  off  to  a  quiet  bunch  of  eat- 
ing that  will  fit  a  couple  of  appetites 
just  out  seeing  the  sights.  Nothing 
that  will  put  a  kink  in  a  year's  in- 
come, you  know,  Beau;  just  suggest 
some  little  thing  that  looks  better  than 
it  tastes,  but  is  not  too  expensive  to 
keep  down.' 


YOU   CAN    SEARCH    ME.  23 

" '  Oui,  oui! '  His  Marseillaise  came 
back  at  me, '  un  diner  confortable  doit 
se  composer  de  potage,  de  volatile 
bouillie  ou  rotie,  chaude  ou  froide,  de 
gibier,  de  plats  rares  et  distingues,  de 
poissons,  de  sucreries,  de  patisseries  et 
de  fruits!' 

"  I  looked  at  my  wife,  she  looked  at 
me,  then  we  both  looked  out  the  win- 
dow and  wished  we  had  never  been 
born. 

" '  Say,  Garsong,'  I  said,  after  we 
came  to,  *  my  wife  is  a  daughter  of  the 
American  Revolution  and  she's  so  pa- 
triotic she  eats  only  in  United  States, 
so  cut  out  the  Moulin  Rouge  lyrics 
and  let's  get  down  to  cases.  How 
much  will  it  set  me  back  if  I  order  a 
plain  steak — just  enough  to  flirt  with 
two  very  polite  appetites  ?  ' 

" '  Nine  dollars  and  seventy  cents/ 
said  Joan  of  Arc's  brother  Bill ;  '  the 
seventy  cents  is  for  the  steak  and  the 
nine  dollars  will  help  some  to  pay  for 


24  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

the  Looey  the  Fifteenth  furniture  in 
the  bridal  chamber.' 

" '  Save  the  money,  John,'  whis- 
pered Peaches ;  '  and  we'll  buy  a  cow 
with  it.' 

"  '  How  about  a  sliver  of  roast  beef 
with  some  slapped  potatoes,'  I  said  to 
the  waiter.  '  Is  it  a  bull  market  for 
an  order  like  that? ' 

" '  Three  dollars  and  forty-two 
cents,'  answered  Henri  of  Navarre; 
'  forty-two  cents  for  the  order  and 
three  dollars  to  help  pay  for  the 
French  velvet  curtains  in  the  golden 
suite  on  the  second  floor.' 

"  '  Keep  on  guessing,  John ;  you'll 
wear  him  out,'  Peaches  whispered. 

"  '  Possibly  a  little  cold  lamb  with  a 
suggestion  of  potato  salad  on  the  side 
might  satisfy  us,'  I  said ; '  make  me  an 
estimate.' 

"  '  Four  dollars  and  eighteen  cents,' 
replied  Patsey  Boulanger ;  '  eighteen 
cents  for  the  lamb  and  salad  and  the 
four  dollars  for  the  Looey  the  Fif- 


YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME.  25 

teenth  draperies  in  the  drawing-room.' 

" '  Ask  him  if  there's  a  bargain 
counter  anywhere  in  the  dining-room/ 
whispered  Peaches. 

"  '  My  dear,'  I  said  to  Clara  J.,  '  we 
have  already  displaced  about  sixty  dol- 
lars' worth  of  space  in  this  dyspepsia 
emporium,  and  we  must,  therefore,  be- 
have like  gentlemen  and  order  some- 
thing, no  matter  what  the  cost.  What 
are  the  savings  of  a  life-time  compared 
with  our  honor ! ' 

"  The  waiter  bowed  so  low  that  his 
shoulder  blades  cracked  like  a  whip. 

"  '  Bring  us/  I  said,  '  a  plain  ome- 
let and  one  dish  of  prunes.' 

"  I  waited  till  Peter  Girofla  trans- 
lated this  into  French  and  then  I 
added,  '  And  on  the  side,  please,  two 
glasses  of  water  and  three  toothpicks. 
Have  the  prunes  fricasseed,  wash  the 
water  on  both  corners,  and  bring  the 
toothpicks  rare.' 

"  The  waiter  rushed  awav  and  all 


26  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

around  us  we  could  hear  money  talk- 
ing to  itself. 

"  Fair  women  sat  at  the  tables  pick- 
ing dishes  out  of  the  bill  of  fare  which 
brought  the  blush  of  sorrow  to  the 
faces  of  their  escorts.  It  was  a  won- 
derful sight,  especially  for  those  who 
have  a  nervous  chill  every  time  the  gas 
bill  comes  in. 

"  When  we  ate  our  modest  little  din- 
ner the  waiter  presented  a  check  which 
called  for  three  dollars  and  thirty- 
three  cents. 

"  *  The  thirty-three  cents  is  for  what 
you  ordered/  Alexander  J.  Dumas  ex- 
plained, '  and  the  three  dollars  is  for 
the  French  hangings  in  the  parlor.' 

"  '  Holy  Smoke ! '  I  cried ;  '  that  fel- 
low Looey  the  Fifteenth  has  been  do- 
ing a  lot  of  work  around  here  hasn't 
he  ? '  but  the  waiter  was  so  busy  watch- 
ing the  finish  of  the  change  he  handed 
me  that  he  didn't  crack  a  smile. 

"  Then  I  got  reckless  and  handed 
him  a  fifty-cent  tip. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  27 

"  The  waiter  looked  at  the  fifty  cents 
and  turned  pale. 

"  Then  he  looked  at  me  and  turned 
paler. 

"  Then  he  tried  to  thank  me,  but  he 
caught  another  flash  of  that  plebeian 
fifty  and  it  choked  him. 

"  Then  he  took  a  long  look  at  the 
half-dollar  and  with  a  low  moan  he 
passed  away. 

"  In  the  excitement  I  grabbed 
Peaches  and  we  flew  for  home. 

"Say!  Bunch!  the  only  time  I'll 
ever  go  in  the  St.  Regis  again  will  be 
just  after  a  hearty  dinner." 

"  I  guess  you're  right,  John,  but 
what  about  this  scheme  to  win  out  my 
wedding  money  ? "  Bunch  queried. 
"  I'm  dreadfully  nervous  about  it." 

"  I  know,  Bunch,  I  know  just  how 
you  feel.  I'm  quite  a  bit  to  the  St.  Vi- 
tus  myself,  because  if  Clara  J.  ever 
gets  wise  that  I've  been  speculating 
again  after  faithfully  promising  her  to 
cut  out  all  the  guessing  contests,  she's 


28  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

liable  to  say  something  unkind.  I  sim- 
ply must  get  that  money  back,  Bunch, 
before  she  knows  I  lost  it,  and  Signer 
Petroskinski  is  the  name  of  our  pay- 
ing teller.  I  tell  you,  Bunch,  we  can't 
lose  if  we  handle  this  cinch  right,  and 
I've  got  it  all  framed  up.  It's  good  for 
a  thousand  plunks  apiece  every  week, 
so  cut  out  the  yesterday  gag  and  think 
of  a  fat  to-morrow." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  this  Petroskinski," 
said  Bunch. 

"  I'll  have  him  take  luncheon  with 
us  to-morrow  at  the  Hotel  Astor — 
twelve  thirty.  Are  you  for  me  to  the 
finish,  Bunch  ?  " 

"  If  you  think  it's  all  right  I'll  trail," 
said  Bunch,  and  we  shook  hands. 

"  But  not  a  word  to  the  home  folks," 
I  cautioned  him. 


CHAPTER  IL 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SUFFICIENCY. 

SINCE  Uncle  Peter  Grant  was 
elected  Mayor  of  Ruraldene 
one  book  ago,  our  family 
group  considers  it  extremely  disloyal 
to  stay  in  the  big  town  for  more  than 
four  hours  at  a  time.  So  with  us  it  is 
a  case  of  catching  those  imitation  rail- 
road trains  at  all  sorts  of  hours  and 
commute  to  beat  the  band. 

Since  I  became  a  confirmed  com- 
muter I  have  sprained  three  watches 
and  two  of  my  legs  trying  to  catch 
trains  that  are  wild  enough  to  dodge 
a  dog-catcher. 

The  commuters  are  divided  into  two 
classes :  going  and  coming. 

One  of  the  first  rules  for  a  com- 
muter to  follow  after  he  locates  the 


30  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

railroad  station,  and  hikes  there  a  cou- 
ple of  times  to  get  in  training,  is  to  get 
a  red  and  pink  and  blue  hammock. 

A  hammock  is  a  necessary  evil  in 
the  country,  because  only  by  this 
means  can  the  insects  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  new  commuter. 

The  day  after  we  first  put  up  our 
new  hammock  Uncle  Peter  came  rub- 
bering around  to  look  it  over.  He  was 
all  swelled  up  over  being  elected 
Mayor,  and  he  dropped  in  the  ham- 
mock with  a  splash.  Ten  seconds  later 
the  rope  exploded  and  Uncle  Peter 
made  a  deep  impression  on  the  stone 
porch. 

Every  mosquito  in  the  neighborhood 
rushed  to  his  assistance  and  tried  to 
lift  him  up  with  their  teeth. 

Then  Uncle  Peter  ran  home  and 
told  Aunt  Martha  that  Cinders,  our 
bulldog,  had  tried  to  bite  him. 

The  national  emblem  of  the  com- 
muter is  the  lawn-mower. 

The  lawn-mower  was  invented  orig- 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  31 

inally  for  the  purpose  of  giving  the 
lawn  a  quick  shave,  and  because  it 
can't  talk  like  a  barber  it  makes  a  noise 
like  the  fall  of  Port  Arthur. 

I  remember  the  first  day  I  decided 
I  would  trim  the  Vandyke  beard  on  our 
lawn.  Of  course  I  got  all  mine,  and  I 
got  it  good.  The  result  will  always 
live  in  history  side  by  side  with  the 
battle  of  Gettysburg. 

The  lawn-mower  was  sleeping 
peacefully  in  the  barn  when  I  rushed 
in  and  dragged  it  shriekingly  from  its 
slumbers. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  I  forgot  to 
lather  the  lawn,  but  any  way  it  was 
the  hardest  shave  I  ever  had  anything 
to  do  with. 

That  lawn-mower  began  to  com- 
plain so  loudly  that  the  neighbors  for 
miles  around  rushed  to  the  rock  pile 
and  armed  themselves  for  the  fray. 

The  committee  of  citizens  attracted 
by  the  screams  of  the  lawn-mower 
came  over  to  see  if  I  was  killing  a 


32  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

member  of  the  family  or  only  a  dis- 
tant relative. 

When  they  saw  me  boxing  the  ears 
of  a  stubborn  lawn-mower  they  said 
my  punishment  was  heavy  enough,  so 
they  threw  away  the  lynching  rope  and 
left  me  at  the  post. 

Clara  J.  came  out  on  the  porch  and 
said,  "  John,  perhaps  that  lawn-mower 
would  stop  screaming  if  you  used  a 
little  axle  grease !  " 

"All  right,"  I  came  back  at  her, 
"  but  it  will  take  me  an  hour  and  a  half 
to  find  out  which  part  of  the  lawn- 
mower  will  fit  the  axle  grease." 

Then  I  lifted  the  machinery  up  to 
examine  its  constitution  and  by-laws, 
and  about  two  and  a  half  pounds  of 
wrought  iron  fell  off  and  landed  on 
my  instep. 

The  wrought  iron  made  good. 

Then  I  tried  to  stand  on  the  other 
foot,  but  I  lost  my  balance  and  fell  on 
the  lawn-mower's  third  rail. 

I  never  was  so  mortified  in  my  life 


Two  and  a  half  pounds  of  iron 
landed  on  my  instep, — Page  32 


YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME.  33 

as  when  that  lawn-mower  began  to 
saw  its  initials  on  my  shin  bones. 

Every  time  I  tried  to  get  up  I  lost 
my  balance,  and  every  time  I  lost  my 
balance  the  lawn-mower  would  leap  up 
in  the  air  and  fall  on  my  wish-bone. 

When  loving  hands  finally  pulled  us 
apart  I  was  two  doors  and  a  half  be- 
low unconsciousness,  while  the  lawn- 
mower  had  recovered  its  second  wind 
and  was  wagging  its  tail  with  excite- 
ment. 

After  waiting  for  about  ten  minutes 
for  me  to  come  back  in  the  ring,  the 
lawn-mower  got  impatient  and  began 
to  bark  at  me  in  Yiddish,  so  I  decided 
that  our  lawn  could  grow  whiskers 
like  a  Populist  farmer  and  be  hanged 
to  it. 

Another  splendid  bit  of  local  color 
in  the  life  of  some  commuters  is  the 
tunnel  which  runs  from  Forty-second 
Street  up  as  far  as  One  Hundred  and 
Fifty  in  the  shade. 

A  ride  through  this  tunnel  on  a  hot 


34  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

day  will  put  you  over  on  Woosey  Ave- 
nue quicker  than  a  No.  9  pill  in  Hop 
Lee's  smoke  factory. 

In  order  to  get  out  to  Ruraldene  I 
have  to  use  the  tunnel,  and  every  time 
I  use  it  it  leaves  something  which 
looks  like  the  mark  of  Cain  across  my 
brow. 

The  first  day  I  went  through  that 
tunnel  will  always  remain  one  of  my 
hottest  memories. 

I  lost  nine  pounds  of  solid  flesh 
somewhere  between  my  shoulder  blade 
and  Seventy-ninth  Street. 

The  sensation  is  the  same  as  a  Bad 
Man's  hereafter,  including  the  sulphur. 

First  I  choked  up  a  little,  then  I 
coughed,  then  I  stirred  uneasily,  and 
then  I  looked  out  the  window  and 
prayed  for  the  daylight,  and  then  I 
looked  at  my  newspaper,  but  I  couldn't 
read  it,  because  the  railroad  company 
had  found  the  gas  bill  pretty  heavy 
last  month  and  they  were  cutting  down 
expenses. 


YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME.  35 

Then  I  lost  my  breath,  and  when  I 
got  it  back  I  found  it  wasn't  mine. 

Then  I  began  to  fan  myself  with 
my  hat,  but  I  stopped  when  the  man 
behind  me  began  to  kick  because  I 
was  handing  him  more  than  his  just 
share  of  the  tunnel  gas. 

Then  I  began  to  choke  up  again, 
and  then  I  coughed,  and  then  I  could 
feel  something  fat  and  mysterious 
playing  hide  and  go  seek  around  my 
brain,  but  outside  all  was  black  as 
ink,  and  only  from  the  noise  could  I 
tell  that  the  road  was  still  paying  divi- 
dends. 

The  air  began  to  get  close  and  thick 
like  a  porterhouse  steak  in  a  St.  Louis 
hotel. 

I  began  to  breathe  like  my  wife  cro- 
chets an  open-faced  stocking — one, 
two,  three,  drop  one;  one,  two,  three, 
four,  drop  one. 

Then  my  blood  began  to  curdle  and 
cold  chills  ran  up  my  back  and  liked 
it  so  well  they  ran  down  again. 


36  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

My  respiration  was  8  to  I,  my  in- 
spiration was  9  to  6  for  a  place,  and 
my  perspiration  was  like  a  cloud- 
burst. 

I  had  made  my  will  with  a  few  men- 
tal and  Indian  reservations,  and  was 
choking  up  for  the  last  time  when, 
with  one  mighty  jump  forward,  the 
train  shook  itself  free  from  the  tunnel 
and  once  more  we  were  out  in  the  sun- 
light. 

After  picking  enough  sulphur  off 
my  clothes  to  make  a  box  of  matches, 
I  reached  gently  over  and  tried  to  put 
the  window  up,  but  it  was  closed 
tighter  than  a  sacred  saloon  on  Sun- 
day. 

I  gave  the  window-sash  a  couple  of 
upper-cuts  and  a  few  short-arm 
punches,  but  it  sat  there  and  laughed 
in  my  face. 

The  brakeman  came  through,  and  I 
spoke  to  him  about  the  window.  He 
said,  "  The  first  time  I  see  the  presi- 


YOU   CAN    SEARCH    ME.  37 

dent  of  the  road  I'll  tell  him  about  it !  " 
and  left  me  flat. 

Once  more  I  tried  to  open  that  win- 
dow, but  I  only  succeeded  in  opening 
my  collar ;  so  then  I  opened  my  mouth 
and  made  a  short  but  spicy  announce- 
ment, whereupon  the  old  lady  in  the 
seat  ahead  of  me  got  up  and  left  the 
car. 

Just  then  the  train  pulled  into  a  sta- 
tion which  I  hadn't  paid  for,  but  I 
went  out  and  took  it,  because  it  con- 
tained a  little  fresh  air. 

Some  day  I  will  mention  the  name 
of  this  railroad  company  and  make 
them  blush. 

Well,  after  I  left  Bunch  that  after- 
noon, I  ducked  for  the  depot,  and 
reached  Ruraldene  just  in  time  to  wit- 
ness the  beginning  of  a  most  painful 
episode. 

The  house  was  lighted  up  from  cel- 
lar to  attic.  As  soon  as  I  opened  the 
door  I  found  our  respected  Mayor, 
Uncle  Peter,  and  he  was  also  lit  up. 


38  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  It's  a  surprise,  Johnny,"  he  whis- 
pered hoarsely.  "  Clara  J.  is  giving 
an  entertainment  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Christian  Soldiers'  League,  and  it's 
going  to  cost  you  two  dollars  to  come 
into  your  own  house." 

It  made  an  awful  hit  with  Uncle 
Peter  to  see  me  cough  up  those  two 
bones,  but  I  said  nothing  and  made 
good. 

My  wife  called  it  a  musicale,  but  to 
me  it  looked  more  like  a  fight. 

With  the  help  of  Aunt  Martha  and 
Alice  Grey,  my  wife  arranged  the  pro- 
gramme and  kept  it  dark  to  surprise 
the  rest  of  the  family. 

It  was  such  a  surprise  to  me  that  I 
felt  like  doing  a  glide  to  the  wood- 
lands. 

It  was  my  second  experience  with  a 
musicale,  and  this  one  cured  me  all 
right. 

You  know  I  don't  care  much  for 
society — especially  when  it  breaks 
into  our  bungalow  and  begins  to 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  39 

scratch  my  furniture  with  its  high- 
heeled  shoes.  But  just  to  please 
Peaches  I  promised  to  go  in  the  parlor 
and  not  be  an  insult  to  those  present. 

For  awhile  everybody  sat  around 
and  sized  up  what  everybody  else  was 
wearing. 

Then  they  gave  each  other  the  silent 
double-cross. 

Presently  my  wife  whispered  to 
Miss  Cleopatra  Hungerschnitz,  where- 
upon that  young  lady  giggled  her  way 
over  to  the  piano  and  began  to  knock 
its  teeth  out. 

The  way  Cleopatra  went  after  one 
of  Beethoven's  sonatas  and  slapped  its 
ears  was  pitiful. 

Cleopatra  learned  to  injure  a  piano 
at  a  conservatory  of  music,  and  she 
could  take  a  fugo  by  Victor  Hugo  and 
leave  it  for  dead  in  about  thirty-two 
bars. 

At  the  finish  of  the  sonata  we  all 
applauded  Cleopatra  just  as  loudly  as 
we  could,  in  the  hope  that  she  would 


40  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

faint  with  surprise  and  stop  playing, 
but  no  such  luck. 

She  tied  a  couple  of  chords  together 
and  swung  that  piano  like  a  pair  of  In- 
dian clubs. 

First  she  did  "  My  Old  Kentucky 
Home,"  with  variations,  until  every- 
body who  had  a  home  began  to  weep 
for  fear  it  might  get  to  be  like  her 
Kentucky  home. 

The  variations  were  where  she  made 
a  mistake  and  struck  the  right  note. 

Then  Cleopatra  moved  up  to  the 
squeaky  end  of  the  piano  and  gave  an 
imitation  of  a  Swiss  music  box. 

It  sounded  to  me  like  a  Swiss  cheese. 

Presently  Cleopatra  ran  out  of  raw 
material  and  subsided,  while  we  all 
applauded  her  with  our  fingers 
crossed,  and  two  very  thoughtful  la- 
dies began  to  talk  fast  to  Cleopatra 
so  as  to  take  her  mind  off  the  piano. 

Then  the  Bingledingle  brothers, 
known  as  Oscar  and  Victor,  opened 
fire  on  us  with  a  couple  of  mandolins. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  41 

Oscar  and  Victor  play  entirely  by 
hand.  They  don't  know  one  note  from 
another,  and  they  can  prove  it  when 
they  begin  to  play. 

Their  mother  believes  them  to  be 
prodigies  of  genius.  She  is  alone  in 
her  belief. 

After  Oscar  and  Victor  had  chased 
one  of  Sousa's  marches  all  over  the 
parlor  and  finally  left  it  unconscious 
under  the  sofa,  they  bowed  and  ceased 
firing,  and  then  they  went  out  in  the 
dining-room  and  filled  their  storage 
batteries  with  ice  cream  and  cake. 

This  excitement  was  followed  by  an- 
other catastrophe  named  Minnehaha 
Jones,  who  picked  up  a  couple  of  so- 
prano songs  and  screeched  them  at  us. 

Minnehaha  is  one  of  those  fearless 
singers  who  vocalize  without  a  safety 
valve.  She  always  keeps  her  eyes 
closed,  so  she  can't  tell  just  when  her 
audience  gets  up  and  leaves  the  room. 

The  next  treat  was  a  mixed  duet  on 
the  flute  and  trombone  between  Clar- 


42  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

ence  Smith  and  Lancelot  Diffenberger, 
with  a  violin  obligate  on  the  side  by 
Hector  Tompkins. 

Never  before  have  I  seen  music  so 
roughly  handled. 

It  looked  like  a  walk-over  for  Clar- 
ence, but  in  the  fifth  round  he  blew 
a  couple  of  green  notes  and  Lancelot 
got  the  decision. 

Then,  for  a  consolation  prize,  Hec- 
tor was  led  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  where  he  assassinated  Mascag- 
ni's  Cavalleria  Rusticana  so  thoroughly 
that  it  will  never  be  able  to  enter  a 
fifty-cent  table  d'hote  restaurant  again. 

Then  Cornucopia  Coogan  arose  and 
gave  us  a  few  select  recitations.  She 
weighs  295  pounds  and  she  was  im- 
mense. 

Just  as  she  started  to  tell  us  that 
Curfew  would  not  ring  to-night  Uncle 
Peter  winked  at  me,  and  we  sneaked 
out  and  began  to  drown  our  sorrow. 

Those  musicales  would  be  all  to  the 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  43 

good  if  the  music  didn't  suffocate 
them. 

After  the  crowd  had  left  that  night 
Peaches  said  to  me,  "  John,  Uncle  Pe- 
ter and  Aunt  Martha  and  I  have  been 
talking  matters  over  to-day,  and  we've 
arranged  a  most  delightful  surprise 
for  you ! " 

"  What  is  it,  another  one  of  those 
parlor  riots  ?  "  I  asked.  "  If  so,  I  want 
to  tell  you  right  now  that  you  couldn't 
surprise  me  if  Uncle  Peter  and  Aunt 
Martha  stepped  out  and  did  a  song 
and  dance  in  black  face." 

Peaches  laughed. 

"  Oh !  that  isn't  it,"  she  chuckled. 
"  It  has  something  to  do  with  the 
$5,000  you've  saved." 

"  Oh !  it  has,"  I  muttered  faintly. 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Peter  thinks  we  better 
not  invest  it  in  that  house  just  now," 
she  went  on.  "  He  has  a  better  plan. 
You  are  to  give  him  the  money  and 
he  will  invest  it  for  you." 

"  Ah !  "  I  said. 


44  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  But  that  isn't  the  real  surprise," 
she  cooed. 

"  It  will  do,"  I  answered. 

"  Uncle  Peter  is  so  delighted  that 
you  have  kept  your  promise  to  me 
not  to  speculate  any  more  that  he  has 
planned — oh!  I  nearly  told,  and  it's 
such  a  secret !  " 

Then  I  went  over  into  a  corner  and 
got  busy  with  my  thoughts. 

Bunch  and  I  would  have  to  get  Pe- 
troskinski  to  work  in  a  hurry. 

We  both  needed  the  money. 


CHAPTER  III. 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  BUSY. 

WE  were  a  half-hour  early 
for  my  appointment  with 
Signer  Petroskinski 
when  Bunch  and  I  strolled  into  the 
cafe  of  the  Hotel  Astor  the  next  day. 

"  Bunch,"  I  said,  when  the  waiter 
had  forced  a  confession  from  us, 
"  there's  doings  out  home.  Clara  J. 
tipped  me  off  last  night  that  I  must 
hand  over  my  five  thousand  plunks 
to  be  properly  invested  by  the  Mayor 
of  Ruraldene." 

"  Uncle  Peter !  "  chuckled  Bunch. 

"  Now  I  can't  tip  my  hand  to  the 
old  gentleman  and  have  him  lecture 
me  all  over  the  place,  can  I,  Bunch  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  want  your  wife  to 
know  that  you  sprained  your  prom- 
ise." 


46  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  Then  it's  up  to  me  to  press  the 
button  and  start  my  get-rich-quick 
concern,"  I  said.  "  I  simply  can't  go 
home  and  hand  them  a  sad  drool  about 
being  coaxed  into  the  Street  and  be- 
ing trimmed  for  my  coin — nix!  The 
only  thing  to  do  is  to  go  out  and  get  it 
back,  and  get  it  quick,  eh,  Bunch  ?  " 

"  You  bet,  John,"  Bunch  agreed. 
"  I  spent  last  evening  with  Alice  and 
I  "felt  like  phony  money  all  the  time. 
She's  going  right  ahead  with  the  wed- 
ding preparations  and  I  simply  hadn't 
the  nerve  to  tell  her  that  I  lost  nearly 
every  penny  I  had.  Uncle  William 
Grey  tiptoed  into  the  parlor  for  a  few 
moments  and  began  to  congratulate 
me  on  the  good  reports  he  had  had 
from  Alice  with  regard  to  my  ability 
to  save  a  bit  of  money.  I  could  feel 
myself  shrivelling  up  as  he  talked  and 
the  parlor  began  to  turn  around  and 
start  for  the  Bennings  track." 

"  I  know  the  feeling,"  I  said  earn- 
estly. "  There  was  a  time,  Bunch, 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  47 

that  whenever  my  wife  mentioned  the 
word  money  to  me  I  could  see  a  horse 
come  into  the  room  and  shake  his 
mane  at  me." 

"And  then,"  Bunch  continued, 
"  Uncle  William  said  to  me,  '  Jeffer- 
son, my  boy,  Alice  tells  me  you've  al- 
ready saved  up  five  thousand,  and  I'm 
proud  of  you.  I  didn't  like  you  at 
first,  because  I  thought  you  were  a  ha- 
rum  scarum  like  your  friend,  John 
Henry ;  but  now  that  you've  developed 
such  manly  traits  of  character  I'm  go- 
ing to  take  four  thousand  of  your 
money,  put  the  same  amount  in  for 
Alice,  and  start  you  in  business.'  Say, 
John,  I  wanted  to  go  through  the  par- 
lor floor  and  on  through  the  earth  and 
then  out  through  the  busiest  fort  at 
Port  Arthur,  and  let  a  Jap  shell  knock 
my  silly  head  off." 

"  We're  both  up  against  it  for  fair/' 
I  said ;  "  and  we'll  have  to  get  in  the 
ice-cutting  business  right  away.  As  I 
told  you,  this  Signer  Petroskinski  is 


48  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

the  marvel  of  the  age,  and  we  can 
simply  coin  money  with  him.  Two 
thousand  dollars  will  start  the  driving 
wheels — gi'  me  your  thousand  and  I'll 
put  it  with  mine." 

Bunch  dug  out  his  last  bundle  of  big 
bills  and  I  gave  him  the  partnership 
articles  I  had  framed  up. 

"  We'll  open  up  in  New  Rochelle," 
I  said,  "  next  Thursday  night.  Charlie 
Osgood  is  a  friend  of  mine  and  he's 
laid  out  a  gilt-edged  route  for  me. 
Mamaroneck  Friday  night,  and  then 
into  Cos  Cob  for  Saturday  matinee  and 
night." 

"  That  doesn't  sound  like  a  glad  ho- 
sannah  to  me !  "  Bunch  grumbled. 

"What,  Cos  Cob!"  I  answered. 
"  It's  aces.  Charlie  Osgood  says  Cos 
Cob  is  a  great  Saturday  night  town 
because  it's  pay-day  at  the  gas  works. 
From  there  we  jump  to  Green's  Farms 
for  the  Monday  night  show." 

"  Is  that  place  really  on  the  map  ?  " 
Bunch  asked. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME.  49 

"  Sure  it  is,"  I  said.  "  Charlie  says 
it's  a  good  Monday  night  town  be- 
cause two  through  freights  lay  over 
there  till  daylight.  Tuesday  night  we 
have  to  double  back  to  Greenwich,  and 
that's  where  Charlie  gave  us  the  bum 
deal.  This  gag  of  chasing  us  back 
over  the  same  route  is  rotten,  because 
somebody  may  be  sitting  up  for  us 
with  a  rock.  But  Charlie  says  Green- 
wich has  developed  into  a  great  show 
town  since  five  new  families  moved 
there  last  summer.  Wednesday  we  get 
into  Stamford  for  a  run — two  per- 
formances. Friday  we  are  booked  at 
South  Norwalk  and  Saturday  we  play 
matinee  and  night  at  Saugatuck  Junc- 
tion. Charlie  says  Saugatuck  is  a 
cinch  money-maker  because  it's  a 
Junction.  When  I  asked  him  what 
there  is  about  a  Junction  that  makes 
it  a  safe  play  Charlie  excused  himself 
and  went  to  lunch.  After  Saugatuck 
we  are  not  booked,  because  Charlie 
says  something  may  fall  down  in  New 


50  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

York  and  he  may  want  to  yank  us 
right  in.  And,  say,  if  Signor  Petro- 
skinski,  the  Illusionist  and  Worker  of 
Mystical  Magic,  ever  gets  a  crack  at  a 
Broadway  audience  it'll  be  a  case  of 
us  matching  John  D.  Rockefeller  to 
see  who  has  the  most  money." 

"  No,  we  better  not  bring  Skinski 
into  New  York,"  Bunch  advised. 
"  I'm  afraid  of  the  critics." 

"What  critics?"  I  inquired. 
"  There  are  only  four  people  in  New 
York  city  who  can  write  criticisms — 
the  rest  of  the  bunch  are  slush-dealers, 
and  a  knock  from  any  one  of  them  is  a 
boost." 

"  I  mean  Mr.  Stale,"  Bunch  put  in. 
"  If  he  were  to  roast  our  Skinski  it 
might  hurt  our  business." 

"  It  would — among  the  Swedes  and 
Hungarians,"  I  cross-countered.  "  I'm 
wise  to  Mr.  Stale,  nee  Cohenheimer, 
the  Human  Harpoon!  Say,  Bunch! 
he's  a  joke.  I  caught  him  the  day  he 
first  left  the  blacksmith  shop,  some  ten 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  51 

years  ago,  with  a  boathook  in  each 
hand  and  a  toasting  fork  between  his 
teeth.  That  duck  isn't  a  critic,  he's 
only  a  Foofoo." 

"What  the  devil  is  a  Foofoo?" 
Bunch  asked. 

"  A  Foofoo  is  something  that  tried 
to  happen  and  then  lost  the  address," 
I  explained.  "Did  you  ever  pipe 
Stale's  cheery  bits  of  humor  as  exem- 
plified in  one  of  his  burning  criticisms  ? 
Well,  I'll  put  you  wise,  Bunch : 

"  I  went  to  the  Kookoo  theatre  last 
night,  I  and  myself.  Voila!  tout  bien! 
I  have  seen  lots  of  shows  before,  I 
have,  but  I  have  never,  I  solemnly  de- 
clare, seen  any  show  so  utterly  banal 
as  this.  The  libretto  was  written  by 
some  obscure  person  who  never  reads 
my  criticisms  for  if  he  did  he  would 
know  that  I  abhor  Dutch  dialect. 
One  reason  I  hate  it  so  much  is  that 
some  people  can  write  it  so  well  that 
they  make  more  money  than  I  do  writ- 
ing English  undefiled— oh !  the  shame 
of  it!  Voila!  tout  suite!  But  to  re- 
turn to  our  muttons,  as  we  say  in  Paris 


$2  YOU   CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

whenever  I  go  there.  Tottie  Cough- 
drop  played  the  principal  part  but  a 
merciful  Providence  gave  me  a  cold  in 
the  head  so  I  couldn't  hear  what  she 
said!  Voila!  tout  fromage  de  Brie! 
To  my  mind  Tottie  looked  like  one  of 
yesterday's  ham  sandwiches,  and  a 
'  gent '  sitting  near  me  said  she  was 
all  to  the  mustard,  so  you  see  great 
minds  run  in  the  same  channel — oh! 
la,  la,  la!  But  to  return  to  our  mut- 
tons. The  show  is  said  to  have  cost 
$25,000,  but  what  care  I  ?  Voila!  tout 
coalscuttle!  I'd  roast  it  if  it  cost  $50,- 
ooo,  otherwise  how  could  I  make 
good?  Voila!  tout  blatherskite!  But 
to  return  to  our  muttons.  I  went  out 
after  the  first  act  and  never  did  go 
back — great  joke  on  the  show,  wasn't 
it?  Oh!  la,  la,  la!  Still  I  insist  that 
Tottie  Coughdrop  looked  like  a  ham 
sandwich.  Voila!  tout  fudge!" 

"So  that's  the  kind  of  piffle  that 
managers  and  actors  have  to  go  up 
against,"  laughed  Bunch. 

"  They  don't  go  up  against  it  any 
more,  Bunch,"  I  said.  "  They  are 
shifty  young  guys  in  the  theatrical 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  53 

business  nowadays,  and  they  sidestep 
the  hammer-throwers.  Mr.  Stale  is  a 
back  number,  and  his  harpoon  can't 
stop  a  dollar  bill  from  flutering  into 
any  man's  box  office." 

"He  thinks  he  can,  all  right," 
Bunch  muttered. 

"  Well,  there  are  two  thinks  and  a 
half  still  due  him,"  I  said.  "  Who  ever 
gave  that  guy  a  license  to  splash  ink 
all  over  a  production  and  hold  actors, 
authors  and  managers  up  to  ridicule? 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  an  actor  or  an 
author  or  a  manager  getting  out  a 
three-sheet  which  held  a  newspaper  up 
to  ridicule  ?  " 

"  Not  on  your  endowment  policy," 
Bunch  chimed  in. 

"  Well,  isn't  a  newspaper  just  as 
much  of  a  public  institution  as  a  thea- 
tre? Suppose  a  manager  were  to  call 
in  a  rubberneck,  hand  him  a  tool  box 
and  send  him  to  a  newspaper  office  to 
look  for  a  splashy  production  on  a 
busy  night.  Suppose,  further,  that  af- 


54  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

ter  the  paper  went  to  press  Mr.  Rub- 
berneck opened  up  his  tool  box  and  be- 
gan to  pound  on  the  leading  man  in 
the  print  shop  for  having  a  bunch  of 
bad  grammar  in  his  editorial  column, 
and  after  that,  suppose  our  friend  with 
the  glistening  eyes  jumped  on  one  of 
the  sub-editors  because  the  woman's 
page  was  out  of  alignment,  or  made  a 
rave  because  the  jokes  in  the  funny 
column  were  all  to  the  ancient,  what 
would  happen  to  Mr.  Rubberneck,  eh, 
what?  Sixteen  editors,  fourteen  re- 
porters and  twenty-three  linotype  men 
would  take  a  running  kick  at  old  But- 
tinski, and  there  wouldn't  be  enough 
of  him  left  to  give  the  coroner  an 
excuse  to  look  solemn." 

"  I  thought  Stale  used  to  write 
books,"  Bunch  put  in. 

"  He  thought  so,  too,  but  the  public 
passed  him  the  ice  pitcher,"  I  said. 
"  He  started  in  to  be  a  successful  au- 
thor and  then  he  bit  his  tongue." 

"  He'll  get  after  you  good  and  hard 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  55 

if  he  hears  you  talking  this  way," 
Bunch  admonished. 

"  Say !  Bunch !  he's  been  after  me 
for  five  years  and  he  hasn't  caught  up 
with  me  yet.  Every  time  he's  had  a 
chance  he's  tossed  a  few  sneers  in  my 
direction,  so  I  made  up  my  mind  the 
other  day  I'd  coax  him  down  to  the 
foundry  and  throw  the  anvil  at  him. 
If  ever  I  do  cut  loose  on  that  Birming- 
ham gent  he'll  think  he  has  swallowed 
one  of  his  own  harpoons.  He's  a  case 
of  Perpetual  Grouch  because  it  gets 
the  dough  for  him  on  pay-day. 

"  If  somebody  ever  steals  his  ham- 
mer he'll  be  doing  hotfoots  for  the 
handout  thing  and  he'll  eat  about  once 
a  week. 

"  It's  a  brave  and  glorious  spectacle, 
isn't  it,  Bunch,  to  watch  this  mouldy 
writer,  with  a  big  newspaper  behind 
him  and  columns  of  space  at  his  com- 
mand, throwing  his  hooks  into  actors 
and  actresses  who  haven't  a  chance  on 
earth  to  get  back." 


56  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  I'd  hate  to  have  to  make  my  living 
by  trying  to  drag  the  bread  and  butter 
away  from  other  people,"  Bunch  but- 
ted in. 

"  Yes,  and  the  nickel-plated  nerve 
that  goes  with  it,"  I  went  on.  "  Every 
time  this  Stale  guy  goes  to  a  theatre 
he  makes  it  appear  that  he  was  forced 
into  a  den  of  thieves  and  everybody 
he  can  point  out  with  his  fountain  pen 
is  either  a  criminal  or  a  dirty  deuce. 
What  has  he  ever  done  that  finished 
one,  two,  nine  ?  " 

"  He's  been  fourflushing  around  for 
years  about  the  pitiful  condition  of  the 
'  drammer/  but  did  he  ever  write  a 
play  that  saw  the  light  of  day  ?  Nix. 

"  I'll  bet  eight  dollars  if  he  ever  does 
get  a  play  produced  there'll  be  nobody 
left  in  the  theatre  but  the  ushers  and 
the  spot  light  after  the  first  act." 

"  Lots  of  people  think  he  is  very 
clever,"  Bunch  suggested. 

"  So  is  a  trained  goat,"  I  came  back. 
"  If  you  stood  a  crowd  of  handcuffed 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  57 

actors  and  authors  and  managers  up 
in  a  corner  and  made  faces  at  them 
and  called  them  names  and  blew  spit- 
balls  in  their  eyes  you  could  get  a 
laugh  from  the  low  foreheads,  couldn't 
you,  Bunch  ?  " 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,  John." 

"Well,  that's  Grouchy  Stale's  line 
of  endeavor.  Say,  Bunch,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  knocks  contained  therein 
one  of  that  guy's  essays  would  read 
like  the  maiden  effort  of  a  lovesick 
jellyfish. 

"  Did  you  ever  pipe  the  pure  and 
lofty  and  highly  ennobling  sentiments, 
the  spiritually  beautiful  inspiration 
which  characterizes  that  book  of  his — 
that  deft  little  dip  into  degeneracy — 
something  about  a  frozen  wedding! 
Oh,  slush!  Percy,  pass  the  cigar- 
ettes ! " 

"  There  must  be  a  certain  class  of 
people  who  read  that  kind  of  criti- 
cism," Bunch  said. 

"  That  windy  stuff  Stale  hands  out 


58  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

is  supposed  to  be  criticism,  Bunch,  but 
it  isn't — it's  typewritten  egotism." 

"  Yes,  but  it's  useless  for  you  to  go 
after  him,  John;  he'll  only  hand  you 
another  javelin." 

"Well,  the  next  time  that  dub 
throws  the  gaff  into  me  I'll  know  he 
has  a  reason  for  it.  Hereafter,  every 
time  he  bats  an  eye  in  my  direction  it's 
me  for  a  swift  get-back,  I'll  tell  you 
those!" 

"  You  should  bear  the  ills  of  the 
flesh  with  Christian  fortitude," 
grinned  Bunch. 

"Nix,"  I  said.  "I'm  tired  hold- 
ing up  something  fat  for  a  mutt  like 
that  to  paddle  with  a  slapstick !  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SHOCK. 

A  FEW  minutes  later  we  went 
into  the  general  restaurant 
and  found  Signer  Petro- 
skinski  waiting  for  us. 

His  right  name  was  Jeff  Mulligan, 
but  Petroskinski  sounded  more  for- 
eign, and  he  fell  for  it. 

I  introduced  Skinski  to  Bunch,  and 
in  five  minutes  all  the  business  details 
were  settled. 

Skinski  needed  about  $900  to  pay 
for  a  couple  of  new  illusions  which 
were  being  built  for  him,  and  Bunch 
was  appointed  a  committee  to  go  down 
to  Sixth  Avenue  and  disburse  the 
funds. 

"  I  think  we've  got  the  real  graft, 
don't  you,  Skinski?"  .1  said,  after 
the  luncheon  had  been  ordered. 


60  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  It's  a  pipe !  "  Skinski  replied  in 
pure  United  States,  much  to  Bunch's 
surprise.  From  the  name  and  the 
make-up  I  suppose  Bunch  expected 
Skinski  to  yelp  in  Bulgarian  or  throw 
out  signals  in  Graeco-Roman. 

Skinski  was  a  warm  member  with 
the  gab  thing. 

He  got  his  start  in  life  travelling 
with  a  medicine  wagon  in  the  West, 
and  what  he  didn't  know  about  the 
show  business  wasn't  necessary. 

"  Say,  people ! "  our  star  went  on, 
"  I've  a  couple  of  new  card  tricks  up 
my  sleeve  that  will  leave  the  Reubens 
gasping  for  air.  And  when  I  pull  my 
new  illusion,  entitled,  '  Keno,  or  the 
Curious  Cage/  on  the  public  it  will  be 
a  case  of  counting  easy  coin.  Say !  did 
I  ever  tell  you  about  that  gold  mine  I 
won  in  the  West  many  moons  ago  ?  " 

"  Nix  on  the  dream  work,  Skinski," 
I  cut  in.  "  We've  put  up  our  good 
money  to  start  you,  so  let's  get  down 
to  the  programme." 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  6 1 

"Oh!  very  well,"  said  Skinski; 
"but  I  was  down  to  see  my  brokers 
to-day  in  Wall  Street  and  there  are  do- 
ings. I've  got  a  plantation  full  of  gold 
out  near  the  Blue  Hills,  and " 

"  Please  don't  smoke,  there  are  la- 
dies present !  "  admonished  Bunch. 

"  Oh,  very  well !  "  said  Skinski,  and 
forthwith  he  launched  into  a  descrip- 
tion of  his  various  tricks. 

The  waiter  had  just  brought  our 
luncheon  when  a  large  blondined 
shadow  fell  across  the  festive  board, 
and  Skinski  jumped  to  his  feet,  fol- 
lowed by  Bunch  and  yours  surprisedly. 

"  Permit  me !  "  Skinski  said ;  "  our 
new  backers,  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr. 
John  Henry!  this  is  Mademoiselle 
Dodo,  the  Human  Guessworks.  She's 
my  assistant  in  the  mind-reading  tests, 
and  she's  all  to  the  elegant.  Will  you 
feed  the  face,  Dodey  ?  " 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  Dodo  re- 
plied, as  she  splashed  into  the  chair 
provided  by  the  waiter,  while  I  glanced 


62  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

at  Bunch  sideways  and  found  him  on 
the  verge  of  a  fainting  fit. 

"  I've  told  Dodey  all  about  you  two 
glad  boys,"  Skinski  went  on,  "  and 
she's  for  you,  ain't  you,  Dodey?  " 

"  You  betcher  sweet ! "  Dodo 
chimed  in,  with  a  hungry  glance  at  the 
cooked  stuff. 

"  I  told  her  we  had  a  business  meet 
on  here,  but  if  she  wanted  to  squeeze 
in  she  wouldn't  be  in  nobody's  way," 
Skinski  continued.  "  Dodey's  an  aw- 
ful clever  girl,  and  she  wouldn't  be  in 
this  biz  eight  hours  if  that  gold 
mine " 

"  Sure,  I  know !  "  I  interrupted ; 
"possibly  Mademoiselle  is  thirsty — a 
little  wine,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  the  stout 
person  replied,  with  a  celerity  that 
made  Bunch  sit  up  and  look  about  the 
room  to  see  if  anyone  suspected  him. 

"  Dodey  is  always  for  the  suds 
thing,"  Skinski  chipped  in.  "  But 
never  to  excess,  never  to  excess.  I 


You  betcher  sweet!" — Page  63 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  63 

never  see  Dodey  lit  up  but  once,  and 
that  was  in  Dayton,  Ohio,  the  night 
we  played  to  the  janitor  of  the  hall 
and  his  four  children.  When  we  came 
to  the  place  where  Dodey  is  blind- 
folded and  does  the  decimal  fractions 
stunt  on  the  blackboard  the  janitor's 
oldest  child  fooled  Dodey  into  doing 
all  next  week's  lessons  in  arithmetic 
and  Dodey  fretted  over  it,  didn't  you, 
Dodey?" 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  the  leading 
lady  replied,  with  both  eyes  following 
the  efforts  of  the  waiter,  who  was 
opening  a  bottle  of  Pommery. 

Bunch  was  beginning  to  get  un- 
easy and  I  had  a  bad  attack  of 
fidgets. 

"  Say,  Dodey ! "  our  bright  and 
shining  light  went  on,  "I  want  you 
to  make  a  fuss  over  these  two  young 
gents,  because  they  are  the  only  nearly 
silk  on  the  counter.  They've  put  up 
their  good  cush  to  send  me  on  tour 
without  ever  dragging  me  before  a 


64  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

Police  Justice  to  swear  that  I'm  on  the 
level,  and  if  ever  that  gold  mine " 

"  Tush !  "  I  interrupted.  "  I  saw  you 
work,  Skinski,  and  you're  a  wonder; 
that's  good  enough  for  my  money." 

"  Yes,  but  you  never  once  put  a 
sleuth  over  the  back  trail  to  throw  the 
spot  light  on  my  past  life,"  Skinski 
babbled  on.  "  You're  the  first  white 
man  that  ever  took  a  chance  with  me 
without  lashing  me  to  the  medicine 
ball,  and  I'll  make  good  for  you,  all 
right,  won't  I,  Dodey?" 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  she  mum- 
bled, with  a  mouth  full  of  Pommery. 

"  Say !  "  said  Skinski  to  me,  after 
we  had  ordered  some  breadstuff  for 
the  leading  lady,  "  you're  not  such  a 
late  train  with  the  sleight-of-hand 
gag  yourself,  Mr.  Manager !  " 

"  Oh !  I'm  only  a  piker  at  it,"  I  re- 
plied, modestly.  "  I  can  do  a  few 
moth-eaten  tricks  with  the  cards  and 
I've  studied  out  a  few  of  the  illu- 
sions, enough  to  know  how  to  do  them 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  65 

without  breaking  an  ankle,  but  I'm  not 
cute  enough  to  be  on  the  stage." 

Skinski  laughed,  and  Dodo  looked 
over  another  glass  of  Pommery  long 
enough  to  say,  "  You  betcher  sweet !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Skinski,  leading  a 
bevy  of  French-fried  potatoes  up  to 
his  moustache,  "  you'll  know  enough 
about  it  after  I  rehearse  you  to  go  on 
and  do  the  show  when  we  hit  a  fried- 
egg  burg,  where  there's  only  a  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Audience  to  greet  our  earn- 
est endeavors.  Say,  boys,  you'll  get  a 
lot  of  fricasseed  experience  trailing 
with  this  troupe,  believe  me !  " 

"  I'm  only  going  to  be  with  you  for 
a  few  days,"  I  answered.  "  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson will  be  your  permanent  man- 
ager." 

"The  hell  I  will!"  spluttered 
Bunch.  Then  he  got  red  in  the  face, 
glared  at  Dodo,  and  grouched  out  a 
"beg  pardon!" 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  she  replied, 
patting  the  Pommery. 


66  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  Say,  John !  you  know  well  enough 
I  can't  leave  New  York  for  more  than 
two  or  three  days  just  at  this  time 
without  having  a  good  excuse  to  give 
Alice,"  Bunch  growled,  while  Skinski 
and  the  Circassian  lady  put  the  knives 
to  the  chicken  livers  en  brochette. 

"  How  about  me !  "  I  snapped  back. 
"  I  can't  go  out  of  town  at  all,  except 
in  the  day-time.  I'll  have  to  duck 
back  to  Ruraldene  after  the  show 
every  evening  or  lose  my  card  in  the 
Happy  Husbands'  Union.  It's  differ- 
ent with  you,  Bunch ;  you're  not  mar- 
ried yet." 

"It  isn't  different  at  all,"  Bunch 
whipsawed  me.  "  And  you  haven't 
any  business  to  expect  me  to  hike  over 
the  country  with  this  outfit  while  you 
stay  at  home  and  read  Bunyan's  Pil- 
grim's Progress." 

"  I  won't  read  that  at  all,"  I  coun- 
tered ;  "  I'll  read  nothing  but  the  ship 
news  to  see  if  you  are  stranded." 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  67 

"Well,  I  won't  do  it!"  snorted 
Bunch. 

"  You'll  have  to  do  it  if  you  want  to 
win  out  that  wedding  money,"  I  re- 
torted. "  Is  this  the  way  you  thank 
me  for  what  I've  done  for  you  ?  " 

"  Done  for  me,  nothing !  "  Bunch 
bit  back.  "  I  put  up  as  much  coin  as 
you  did,  and  now  you  want  me  to  do 
all  the  work !  " 

"  Work !  "  I  echoed ;  "  what  work  is 
it  to  count  money,  eh,  Skinski  ?  " 

"  Counting  money  is  a  hot  pastime, 
isn't  it,  Dodey  ?  "  he  answered. 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  responded 
the  fair  lady,  gazing  dreamily  at  the 
empty  flagon  of  Pommery. 

"  Well,  take  my  word  for  it," 
snarled  Bunch,  "  I  don't  hanker  for 
that  sort  of  amusement.  If  there's  any 
train-hopping  to  be  done,  it's  up  to 
you,  John.  It's  your  game,  not  mine." 

"  Say,  are  you  going  to  welsh  on 
me  now  that  we've  passed  over  our 
contract  to  Skinski  ?  "  I  asked  hotly. 


68  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  No,  I'm  not  going  to  welsh," 
Bunch  came  right  back,  "  but  I'm  only 
a  silent  partner  in  this  concern,  so 
you  for  the  Bad  Lands  to  do  the  bark- 
ing for  the  show." 

"  Why  didn't  you  flash  this  stingy 
talk  on  me  before  we  got  started?" 
I  wanted  to  know.  "  It's  a  shine  play 
to  wait  till  you  get  me  all  tied  up  with 
these  artists  here !  " 

Skinski  and  Dodo  both  took  a  bow. 

"  I  didn't,"  Bunch  cackled.  "  You 
framed  up  the  whole  thing,  and  now 
you're  sore  because  I  won't  leave 
home  and  friends  to  plug  your  game." 

"  It's  as  much  your  game  as  mine !  " 

"It  isn't!" 

"It  is!" 

"Rats!" 

"  Make  it  twice  on  the  Rats !  " 

In  two  seconds  more  I  suppose  we 
would  have  come  to  blows,  but  just 
then  a  well-known  voice  behind  us 
gurgled,  "  Hayo,  John !  why,  I  hadn't 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  69 

any  idea  you  were  here !  And  Bunch, 
too !  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you !  " 

It  was  Peaches,  and  behind  her, 
smiling  sweet  approval,  stood  Aunt 
Martha. 

Heart  failure  for  mine  as  I  stum- 
bled to  my  feet  and  caught  the  inter- 
ested expressions  on  the  faces  of  Skin- 
ski  and  Dodo. 

"Aunt  Martha  and  I  have  been 
shopping,  and  we  dropped  in  here  for 
luncheon,"  my  wife  rattled  on,  while  I 
was  slowly  recovering. 

"  Of  course  we  don't  wish  to  be  de 
trop,"  she  added,  glancing  curiously 
at  the  famous  Skinski  and  his  assist- 
ant in  the  mind-reading  tests. 

"  No,  no,  Peaches ;  certainly  not !  " 
I  spluttered ;  "  hadn't  the  faintest  idea 
you  were  coming  in  town  to-day.  Let 
me  present  Bunch's  Uncle  Cornelius 
McGowan  and  his  Aunt  Flora  from 
Springfield — my  wife  and  my  mother- 
in-law!" 

Skinski  and  Dodo  were  wise  in  a 


70  YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME. 

minute,  and  they  never  batted  an  eye, 
but  Bunch  took  the  full  count. 

Of  course  he  couldn't  deny  the  rela- 
tionship without  giving  himself  away, 
so  he  simply  stood  there  and  looked 
foolish. 

"  Have  you  been  in  the  city  very 
long?"  my  wife  said  most  pleasantly 
to  Signor  Petroskinski. 

"  No,  Madam,"  he  answered,  with 
a  most  courtier-like  bow ;  "  we  only 
broke  away  from  the  cars  this  morn- 
ing, and  we  bumped  into  nephew  quite 
by  chance,  didn't  we,  nephew  ?  " 

Bunch  growled  something  that 
wouldn't  sound  well  on  the  grapho- 
phone. 

"Do  you  like  New  York?"  Aunt 
Martha  asked  the  other  half  of  the 
sketch  in  an  effort  to  be  pleasant. 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  said  Dodo, 
.  whereupon  Aunt  Martha  fell  back 
two  paces  to  the  rear  and  looked  pity- 
ingly at  Bunch. 

"If  you'll  excuse  us,  Uncle  Cor- 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  71 

nelius  and  Aunt  Flora,  I'll  take  my 
wife  and  her  mother  to  the  train," 
I  said  nervously. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  piped  Skin- 
ski.  "  Dodey — I  mean  Flo — and  I 
don't  mind  a  bit,  do  we,  Flo  ?  " 

"  You  betcher  sweet ! "  she  an- 
swered, and  I  saw  Peaches  glance 
questioningly  at  Bunch,  who  was  giv- 
ing a  brilliant  imitation  of  the  last 
rose  of  summer. 

"  But,  John,  I'm  so  hungry," 
Peaches  pleaded. 

"  I  know,  my  dear,  but  you  see 
Bunch  has  an  awful  lot  of  family  hap- 
penings to  discuss  with  his  relatives," 
I  said;  "and  we  must  give  him  a 
chance  to  get  acquainted  with  Uncle 
Cornelius  and  Aunt  Flora." 

Whereupon  I  grabbed  my  hat  and 
ducked  for  another  eat  shop  without 
ever  glancing  at  Bunch. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  EXCITED. 

THE  next  day  being  Sunday,  I 
determined  to  forget  all  my 
troubles  and  take   Peaches 
out  buggy  riding. 

I  felt  sure  that  Bunch  was  rid  of  his 
grouch  by  this  time,  and  that  he 
wouldn't  have  a  rock  in  his  hat  for  me 
for  pulling  that  "  Uncle  Cornelius " 

gag- 

I  rather  expected  he'd  show  up  at 
Ruraldene  some  time  Sunday  evening. 
At  any  rate,  I  was  sure  Skinski  and 
the  Dodo  bird  had  conned  him  back 
to  real  life,  and  that  by  Monday  morn- 
ing he'd  be  ripe  for  work  again. 

Peaches  and  Aunt  Martha  said  very 
little  about  Bunch's  new  relatives. 
They  decided  that  "  Uncle  Cornelius  " 


The  answer  was  a  cream-colored  horse 
which  looked  at  me  sadly. — Page  73 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  73 

was  eccentric  and  rather  interesting, 
but  when  they  thought  of  "  Aunt 
Flora"  they  both  got  nervous  and 
changed  the  subject. 

When  I  suggested  the  buggy  ride 
to  Peaches  she  was  delighted,  and  I 
moseyed  for  the  Ruraldene  livery  sta- 
ble to  get  staked  to  a  horse. 

Anybody  who  has  ever  lived  in  a  su- 
burban town  will  doubtless  recall  what 
handsome  specimens  of  equine  perfec- 
tion may  be  found  in  the  local  livery 
stable — not. 

The  livery  man  at  Ruraldene  is 
named  Henlopen  Diffenbingle,  and  he 
looks  the  part. 

I  judged  from  the  excited  manner 
in  which  he  grabbed  my  deposit  money 
that  morning  that  he  had  a  note  fall- 
ing due  next  day. 

Then  Henlopen  shut  his  eyes, 
counted  six,  turned  around  twice,  mul- 
tiplied the  day  of  the  week  by  19,  sub- 
tracted 17,  and  the  answer  was  a 
cream-colored  horse  with  four  pink 


74  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

feet  and  a  frightened  face,  which 
looked  at  me  sadly,  sighed  deeply  and 
then  backed  up  into  the  shafts  of  a 
buggy  with  red  wheels  and  white  sul- 
phur springs. 

The  livery  man  said  that  the  name 
of  the  horse  was  Parsifal,  because  it 
seemed  to  go  better  in  German. 

I  drove  Parsifal  up  to  our  modest 
home,  and  all  the  way  there  we  ran 
neck  and  neck  with  a  coal  cart. 

Parsifal  used  to  be  a  fast  horse,  but 
quite  some  time  ago  he  stopped  eat- 
ing his  wild  oats  and  now  leads  a 
slower  life. 

When  I  reached  the  gate  I  whistled 
for  Peaches,  because  I  was  afraid  to 
get  out  and  leave  Parsifal  alone.  He 
might  go  to  sleep  and  fall  down. 

My  wife  came  out,  looked  at  the 
rig,  and  then  went  back  in  the  house 
and  bade  everybody  an  affecting  fare- 
well. 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  when 
she  came  out  and  climbed  into  the 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  75 

buggy.  She  said  she  was  crying  be- 
cause Aunt  Martha  wasn't  there  to 
see  us  driving  away  and  have  the 
laugh  of  her  life. 

We  started  off  and  we  were  rush- 
ing along  the  road,  passing  a  fence 
and  overtaking  a  telegraph  pole  every 
once  in  a  while,  when  suddenly  we 
heard  behind  us  a  very  insistent  choof- 
choof-choof-choof ! 

"  It's  one  of  those  Careless  Wag- 
ons," I  whispered  to  Peaches,  and  then 
we  both  looked  at  Parsifal  to  see  if 
there  was  a  mental  struggle  going  on 
in  his  forehead,  but  he  was  rushing  on- 
ward with  his  head  down,  watching 
his  feet  to  make  sure  they  didn't  step 
on  each  other. 

Choof-choof-choof !  came  the  Tor- 
pedo Destroyer  behind  us,  and  I 
wrapped  the  reins  around  my  wrist, 
in  case  Parsifal  should  get  uneasy  and 
want  to  print  horseshoes  all  over  that 
automobile. 

The    next    minute     the    machine 


76  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

passed  us,  going  at  the  rate  of  14  con- 
stables an  hour,  and  as  it  did  so  Par- 
sifal stopped  still  and  seemed  to  be 
biting  his  lips  with  suppressed  emo- 
tion. 

I  coaxed  him  to  proceed  in  English, 
in  Spanish  and  Italian,  and  then  in  a 
pale  blue  language  of  my  own,  but  he 
just  stood  there  and  bit  his  lips. 

I  believe  if  he  had  possessed  finger- 
nails he  would  have  bitten  them  too. 

I  gave  the  reins  to  my  wife  with 
instructions  how  to  act  if  the  horse 
started,  and  I  jumped  out  to  argue 
with  him. 

Just  when  I  had  picked  out  a  good- 
sized  rock,  which  was  to  be  my  argu- 
ment, Parsifal  came  out  of  his  trance 
and  started  off,  but  Peaches  forgot 
her  instructions  and  spoke  above  a 
whisper  and  he  stopped  again. 

Then  I  took  the  reins,  cracked  the 
whip,  shouted  a  couple  of  banzais  from 
the  Japanese  national  anthem,  and 


YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME.  77 

away  we  rushed  like  the  wind — when 
it  isn't  blowing  hard. 

The  hours  flew  by  and  we  must 
have  gone  at  least  half  a  mile,  when 
another  Kerosene  Wagon  came  bounc- 
ing towards  us  from  the  opposite  di- 
rection. 

In  it  was  a  happy  party  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  who  were  laughing 
and  chatting  about  some  people  they 
had  just  run  over. 

Parsifal  saw  them  coming  and 
stopped  still  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 
Then  he  hung  his  head  as  low  as  he 
could,  and  I  believe  if  that  horse  had 
been  supplied  with  hands  he  would 
have  put  them  over  his  ears. 

The  people  in  the  Bubble  began  to 
shout  at  us,  and  I  began  to  shout  at 
the  horse,  and  my  wife  began  to  shout 
at  me,  while  Parsifal  stood  there  and 
scratched  his  left  ankle  with  his  right 
heel. 

Then  the  big  machine  made  a  sud- 
den jump  to  the  right  and  hiked  by  us 


78  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

at  the  rate  of  about  a  $100  fine,  while 
the  lady  passengers  on  the  hurricane 
deck  stood  up  and  began  to  hand  out 
medals  to  each  other  because  they 
didn't  run  us  down. 

Ten  minutes  later  Parsifal  came  to 
and  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  us 
with  a  smile  as  serene  as  the  morn- 
ing and  once  more  resumed  his  mad 
career  onward,  ever  onward. 

We  were  now  about  two  miles  from 
home,  and  suddenly  we  came  across 
a  big  red  Bubble  which  stood  in  front 
of  a  road-house,  sneezing  inwardly 
and  sobbing  with  all  its  corrugated 
heart. 

Parsifal  saw  the  machine  before  we 
did. 

We  knew  there  must  be  an  automo- 
bile somewhere  near,  because  he 
stopped  still  and  quietly  passed  away. 

I  jumped  out  and  tried  to  lead  him 
by  the  Coroner's  Delight,  but  he 
planted  his  four  feet  in  the  middle  of 
the  road  and  refused  to  be  coaxed. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  79 

I  took  that  horse  by  the  ear  and 
whispered  therein  just  what  I  thought 
about  him,  but  he  wouldn't  talk  back. 

I  told  him  my  wife's  honor  was  at 
stake,  but  he  looked  my  wife  over  and 
his  lips  curled  with  an  expression 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  Impossible." 

It  was  all  off  with  us. 

Parsifal  simply  wouldn't  move  until 
that  sobbing  Choo  Choo  Wagon  had 
left  the  neighborhood,  so  I  went  inside 
the  road-house  to  find  the  owner. 

I  found  him.  He  consisted  of  a  Ger- 
man chauffeur  and  eight  bottles  of 
beer. 

When  I  explained  the  pitiful  situa- 
tion to  him  the  chauffeur  swallowed 
two  bottles  of  beer  and  began  to  cry. 

Then  he  told  the  waiter  to  call  him 
at  7 :3O,  and  he  put  his  head  down  on 
the  table  and  went  to  sleep  with  his 
face  in  a  cute  little  nest  of  hard-boiled 
cigarettes. 

I  rushed  to  the  telephone  and  called 
up  the  liveryman,  but  before  I  could 


8o  YOU   CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

think  of  a  word  strong  enough  to  fit 
the  occasion  he  whispered  over  the 
wire,  "  I  know  your  voice,  Mr.  Henry. 
I  suppose  Parsifal  is  waiting  for  you 
outside ! " 

Forthwith  I  tried  to  tell  that  livery- 
man just  what  I  thought  about  him 
and  Parsifal,  but  the  telephone  girl 
short-circuited  my  remarks  and  they 
came  back  and  set  fire  to  the  wood- 
work. 

"  My,  my !  "  I  could  hear  the  livery- 
man saying.  "  Parsifal's  hesitation 
must  be  the  result  of  the  epidemic  of 
automobiles  which  is  now  raging  over 
our  country  roads.  The  automobile 
has  a  strange  effect  on  Parsifal.  It 
seems  to  cover  him  with  a  pause  and 
gives  him  inflammation  of  the  speed." 

I  thought  of  poor  Peaches  sitting 
out  there  in  that  blushing  buggy  star- 
ing at  a  dreaming  horse,  while  in  front 
of  her  a  Red  Devil  Wagon  complained 
internally  and  shook  its  tonneau  at  her, 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  8 1 

and  once  more  I  jolted  that  liveryman 
with  a  few  verbal  twisters. 

"  Don't  get  excited,"  he  whispered 
back  over  the  phone.  "  Parsifal  is  a 
new  idea  in  horses.  Whenever  he 
meets  an  automobile  he  goes  to  sleep 
and  tries  to  forget  it.  Isn't  that  better 
than  running  away  and  dragging  you 
to  a  hospital?  There  must  be  some- 
thing about  an  automobile  that  affects 
Parsifal's  heart.  I  think  it  is  the  gaso- 
lene. The  odor  from  the  gasolene 
seems  to  penetrate  his  mind  to  the  re- 
gion of  his  memory  and  he  forgets  to 
move.  Parsifal  is  a  fine  horse,  with  a 
most  lovable  disposition,  but  when  the 
air  becomes  charged  with  gasolene  he 
forgets  his  duty  and  falls  asleep  at 
the  switch." 

I  went  out  and  explained  to  my  wife 
that  Parsifal  was  a  victim  of  the  gaso- 
lene habit,  and  that  he  would  never 
leave  that  spot  until  the  Bubble  went 
away,  and  that  the  Bubble  couldn't  go 
away  until  the  chauffeur  could  wake 


82  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

up,  and  that  the  chauffeur  couldn't 
wake  up  until  his  mind  had  digested  a 
lot  of  wood  alcohol,  so  she  jumped  out 
of  the  buggy  and  we  walked  home. 

Parsifal  may  be  a  new  idea  in 
horses,  but  the  next  time  I  go  buggy 
riding  it  will  be  in  a  street  car. 

When  we  reached  home  that  after- 
noon I  found  a  note  from  Bunch 
which  cheered  me  up  wonderfully. 

The  note  read  as  follows : 

CITY,  Sunday  Morning. 
DEAR  JOHN — Sorry  we  had  the  run 
in  but  it  was  all  my  fault.    Am  send- 
ing you  two  rosebuds  this  evening  as 
a  peace  offering. 

Yours, 

BUNCH. 

"  Two  rosebuds ! "  I  snickered. 
"  That  boy  Bunch  is  a  honey-cooler  all 
right.  But  I'm  sorry  he  didn't  make 
it  two  cigars." 

"Oh!  John!"  Peaches  said  to  me 
a  little  while  later,  when  we  went  over 
to  Uncle  Peter's  villa  to  take  dinner 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  83 

with  them  and  spend  the  evening.  "  I 
do  wish  I  could  tell  you  about  the  sur- 
prise, but  Uncle  Peter  made  me  prom- 
ise not  to  say  a  single  word." 

"  Well,  if  you  feel  tempted  to  give 
the  old  gentleman  the  double  cross  and 
tell  me,  why  I'll  lock  myself  up  in  the 
doghouse  till  he  gives  you  the  starting 
pistol,"  I  chimed  in.  "  Who  is  that 
dragging  the  works  out  of  the  clock 
in  the  sitting  room  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  any  such  thing !  "  Peaches 
exclaimed  indignantly.  "  It's  Uncle 
Peter,  and  he  has  a  dreadful  cold,  but 
Aunt  Martha  has  it  nearly  cured  now, 
she  says." 

I  went  in  and  jollied  the  old  chap 
along  a  bit,  and  little  by  little  I  heard 
his  awful  story. 

He  caught  the  cold  about  three  days 
previously,  but,  after  taking  the  pre- 
scription of  every  loving  friend  within 
a  radius  of  four  miles,  the  cold  had  al- 
most disappeared.  In  place  of  the 
cold,  however,  Uncle  Peter  now  had 


84  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

acute  indigestion,  nervous  procrastina- 
tion, delirium  tremens  and  a  spavin  on 
his  off  fetlock. 

All  this  was  caused  by  a  rush  of 
home-made  medicine  to  his  brain. 

Aunt  Martha  is  a  great  believer  in 
the  simple  life,  so  when  Uncle  Peter 
acquired  a  simple  cold  she  got  a  sim- 
ple move  on  and  poured  enough  simple 
medicines  into  him  to  float  a  simple 
tug. 

Every  friend  she  had  in  the  world 
suggested  a  different  remedy,  and  she 
tried  them  all  on  Uncle  Peter. 

The  cold  got  frightened  and  left  on 
the  second  day,  but  a  woman  has  to 
be  loyal  to  her  friends,  so  Aunt  Mar- 
tha kept  on  spraying  Uncle  Peter's 
system  with  dandelion  tea  and  fried 
peppermint  until  every  microbe  heard 
about  him  and  dropped  in  to  pay  him 
a  long  visit. 

The  first  thing  Aunt  Martha  wanted 
to  do  was  to  rub  Uncle  Peter's  chest 
with  goose  grease. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  85 

"  Goose  grease  is  such  a  noisy  com- 
panion," Uncle  Peter  remonstrated. 

"  Goose  grease  may  be  loud,  but  it 
is  never  vulgar,"  said  Aunt  Martha, 
and  she  went  after  it. 

In  about  ten  minutes  she  came  back 
with  the  painful  news  that  the  only 
thing  in  the  neighborhood  which 
looked  like  a  goose  was  a  quill  tooth- 
pick, and  that  was  ungreasable. 

"But,  my  dear,"  Aunt  Martha 
whispered,  "  I  have  something  just  as 
good.  I  found  this  box  of  axle  grease 
in  the  barn." 

Uncle  Peter  shuddered  and  said 
nothing. 

"  My  idea  is  to  rub  it  on  your  chest 
and  call  it  goose  grease,  because  the 
moral  effect  will  be  the  same,"  Aunt 
Martha  told  him. 

Then  that  loving  wife  rubbed  so 
much  axle  grease  into  Uncle  Peter 
that  for  hours  afterwards  he  thought 
he  had  a  pair  of  shafts  on  him,  and 


86  YOU   CAN  SEARCH   ME. 

every  time  he  saw  a  horse  he  felt  like 
making  fifty  revolutions  a  minute. 

I  suppose  the  axle  grease  gave  him 
wheels  in  the  noddle  and  made  him 
buggyhouse. 

Then  Aunt  Martha  said  to  him, 
"  Now,  Peter,  we  could  cure  that  cold 
in  five  minutes  if  we  can  get  a  woolen 
stocking  to  tie  around  your  throat." 

After  a  little  while  she  found  out 
that  the  only  woolen  stocking  in  our 
village  was  owned  by  the  night  watch- 
man. 

The  night  watchman  said  he  liked 
Uncle  Peter  well  enough,  but  he'd  be 
switched  if  he  was  going  to  walk 
around  all  night  with  one  bare  foot 
even  to  let  the  Mayor  use  his  stocking 
for  a  necktie. 

Selfish  watchman. 

The  next  morning  Uncle  Peter's 
cold  was  much  worse,  but  the  axle 
grease  had  cured  his  appetite. 

About  nine  o'clock  his  friend  Dave 
Torrence  came  in,  and  after  Uncle  Pe- 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  87 

ter  had  barked  for  him  a  couple  of 
times  Dave  decided  that  the  trouble 
was  information  of  the  lungs  and  he 
suggested  that  Uncle  Peter  should  tie 
a  rubber  band  around  his  chest  and 
rub  his  shoulder  blades  with  gasolene. 

Uncle  Peter  told  his  friend  that  he 
had  no  desire  to  become  a  human 
automobile,  so  Dave  got  mad,  kicked 
the  piano  on  the  shins  and  went  home. 

An  hour  later  Deacon  Ed.  Sprong, 
the  Mayor's  next-door  neighbor,  came 
in  and  in  ten  minutes  he  had  Uncle 
Peter  making  signs  to  an  undertaker. 

Deacon  Sprong  decided  that  Uncle 
Peter  had  the  galloping  asthma  with 
compressed  tonsilitis,  and  a  touch  of 
chillblainous  croup  on  the  side,  aggra- 
vated by  asparagus  on  the  chest. 

Deacon  Sprong  told  Uncle  Peter  to 
drink  a  pint  of  catnip  tea,  take  eight 
grains  of  quinine,  rub  the  back  of  his 
neck  with  benzine,  soak  his  ankles  in 
kerosene,  take  two  grains  of  phenac- 


88  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

etine,  and  drink  a  hot  whiskey  toddy 
every  half-hour  before  meals. 

Deacon  Sprong  volunteered  to  run 
over  every  half-hour  and  help  Uncle 
Peter  drink  the  toddy  if  it  tasted  bit- 
ter. 

Then  Deacon  Sprong  went  home, 
and  Uncle  Peter's  temperature  came 
down  about  ten  degrees,  while  his  res- 
piration began  to  sit  up  and  notice 
things. 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  every 
friend  and  relative  Uncle  Peter  had  in 
the  world  rushed  in,  suggested  a  cou- 
ple of  prescriptions,  and  then  rushed 
out  again. 

Aunt  Martha  tried  them  all  on  Un- 
cle Peter. 

Before  the  shades  of  evening  fell 
that  day  Uncle  Peter  was  turned  into 
a  human  medicine  chest. 

And  to  make  matters  worse,  he  took 
some  dogberry  cordial  and  it  chased 
the  catnip  tea  all  over  his  interior 
from  Alpha  to  Omaha. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  89 

Then  Aunt  Martha  gave  him  some 
hoarhound  candy  to  bite  the  dogberry, 
so  it  would  leave  the  catnip  alone,  but 
blood  will  tell,  and  the  hoarhound 
joined  with  the  dogberry  and  chased 
the  catnip  up  Uncle  Peter's  family 
tree. 

But  it  cured  the  cold.  Now  all  Un- 
cle Peter  had  to  do  was  to  cure  the 
medicine. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SETBACK. 

DINNER  was  nearly  over  that 
evening    at    Uncle    Peter's 
villa  in  Ruraldene  when  sud- 
denly the  doorbell  rang  violently  and 
two   minutes    later   the    servant   an- 
nounced that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cornelius 
McGowan  were  in  the  parlor. 

First  I  decided  to  faint;  then  I 
changed  my  mind  and  tried  to  figure 
out  which  would  be  the  most  cruelly 
effective  way  of  killing  Bunch  Jeffer- 
son. 

Uncle  Peter  resented  the  unexpected 
arrival  of  these  strangers,  because  he 
wanted  to  sit  around  and  have  the 
home  folks  tell  him  how  sick  he  was. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  Bunch  Jef- 
ferson means  by  sending  his  relatives 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  91 

over  to  us  on  a  Sunday  evening,"  my 
wife's  uncle  snapped.  "  Why  doesn't 
he  worry  old  Bill  Grey  with  them,  eh  ? 
It's  bad  enough  for  me  to  have  to 
sneeze  my  head  off  before  my  own 
people,  but  I'll  be  dod  bimmed  if  I'm 
going  to  sit  around  the  parlor  and 
play  solos  on  my  bronchial  tubes  for 
the  edification  of  strangers — no,  sir !  " 

Uncle  Peter  sniffled  off  to  his  apart- 
ments, and  Peaches  said  she'd  try  to 
entertain  the  visitors. 

I  concluded  to  help  her  some. 

Skinski  arose  from  the  sofa  and 
greeted  us  with  his  most  elaborate 
bow. 

Ma'moselle  Dodo  didn't  Society 
very  much. 

She  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  room 
and  sang  soft  lullabys  to  a  hold-over. 

"  Mr.  Jefferson,  my  nephew,"  Skin- 
ski  was  saying,  "  insisted  that  we 
should  hit  the  suburban  trail  and  lo- 
cate your  shack.  Here's  a  note  from 
nephew  Bunch  for  you." 


92  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

Skinski  handed  me  the  note  with  a 
face  as  solemn  as  a  monkey-wrench, 
and  I  read  it : 

CITY,  Sunday  P.M. 

DEAR  JOHN — I  send  herewith  the 
two  rosebuds.  As  a  favor  to  your  old 
pal  please  treat  my  beloved  relatives 
with  every  consideration  and  make  a 
fuss  over  them.  You  know  you  told 
them  in  the  restaurant  to  come  and 
see  you.  They  want  to  make  good 
and  will  stay  a  week  if  you  insist. 
With  kindest  regards, 

BUNCH. 

P.  S.  Don't  drag  Aunt  Flora  into 
any  literary  discussions — she  might 
hand  you  something.  Her  favorite 
author  is  Pommery  Sec.,  the  chap  who 
writes  all  those  frothy  books. 

B. 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  our 
place  in  the  day-time,"  Peaches  was 
saying  to  Skinski  when  I  finished 
reading  Bunch's  get-back.  "  We 
think  it's  delightful  out  here.  Did  you 
have  much  trouble  in  finding  the 
place?" 


YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME.  93 

"  Nay,  lady  fair,"  Skinski  replied ; 
"no  trouble  at  all.  Nephew  Bunch 
came  as  far  as  the  front  door  with  us." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  astonished 
Peaches. 

"Yes,"  Skinski  concluded;  "he 
even  saved  us  the  hardship  of  ringing 
the  bell.  Oh !  he's  a  thoughtful  rela- 
tive, Bunch  is." 

Clara  J.  looked  at  me,  I  looked  at 
Skinski,  he  looked  at  Dodo,  and  she 
looked  at  the  piano  and  said  thought- 
fully, "  You  betcher  sweet !  " 

"  The  idea  of  Bunch  coming  to  our 
front  door  and  then  rushing  off  again 
without  seeing  anybody,"  gasped 
Peaches,  "  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  Alice  lives  only  half  a  mile  away 
and  possibly  Bunch  was  running  be- 
hind his  schedule,"  I  suggested. 

Just  then  Aunt  Martha  and  Uncle 
Peter  came  in  the  parlor,  and  presently 
I  grabbed  a  chance  to  say  a  few  words 
to  Skinski  on  the  side : 

"  If  my  family  circle  ever  gets  wise 


94  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

that  you  and  the  Queen  of  Laughter 
over  there  are  excess  baggage  it'll  be 
to  the  cabbage  patch  for  mine,"  I 
whispered. 

"  I'm  on,"  Skinski  whispered  back. 
"  Never  a  break  from  yours  mysteri- 
ously, believe  me.  We  wouldn't  have 
come  out  at  all  if  your  partner  hadn't 
insisted.  He  was  so  hot  to  have  us 
butt  in  here  and  hand  your  heart  a 
flutter  that  I  just  couldn't  resist  his 
pleading  voice.  It's  a  catchy  jest,  all 
right,  and  it's  making  me  laugh.  The 
way  you  two  ducks  josh  each  other  is 
pitiful,  but  your  secret  is  safe  with 
me,  Manager.  I  won't  make  no  bad 
breaks,  and  Dodo  won't  ever  open  her 
talk-trap.  She  never  talks  off  the 
stage.  On  the  stage,  say !  she  has  the 
most  elegant  line  of  language  that  ever 
left  the  pipes.  Leave  it  all  to  me, 
Manager,  and  I'll  see  that  the  Mc- 
Gowan  family  makes  an  awful  hit  with 
your  fireside  companions." 

And  Skinski  kept  his  word. 


YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME.  95 

He  skilfully  led  Uncle  Peter  around 
to  a  discussion  of  sleight-of-hand,  and 
two  minutes  later  the  Wonder  Worker 
was  dragging  the  coal  shovel  and  the 
vinegar  cruet  out  of  the  Mayor's  in- 
side pockets,  to  the  intense  mystifica- 
tion and  delight  of  the  old  gentleman. 

Uncle  Peter  was  wearing  a  small 
diamond  pin  in  his  cravat  and  quite 
by  accident  the  setting  became  loose 
and  the  stone  dropped  to  the  floor. 

The  old  gentleman  became  very 
much  concerned  about  it  and  we  all 
started  to  look  for  it. 

"  Wait  a  minute !  "  said  Skinski ; 
"  the  spark  fell  in  your  left-hand  vest 
pocket." 

Uncle  Peter  looked  at  him  blankly. 
"  Impossible,  why,  there's  nothing 
there  but  this  box  of  quinine  pills  for 
my  cold." 

"  Open  it,"  said  Skinski,  and  Uncle 
Peter  did  so. 

"  How  many  of  those  do  you  usually 
take  in  a  day  ?  "  asked  Skinski. 


96  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  Four,"  replied  the  puzzled  old 
gentleman. 

"  Drop  four  of  them  in  your  left 
hand,"  ordered  Skinski. 

Uncle  Peter's  right  hand  trembled 
a  bit,  with  the  result  that  five  of  the 
quinines  fell  into  his  left  hand. 

"  If  you  counted  money  the  way  you 
count  pills  you'd  quit  loser,"  chuckled 
Skinski.  "  Put  four  of  those  dizzy- 
wizzys  back  in  the  box." 

The  old  gentleman  did  so. 

"  Now  take  your  penknife  and  open 
the  pill  you  didn't  put  back,"  com- 
manded Skinski. 

Uncle  Peter  obeyed  instructions, 
and  he  nearly  choked  with  astonish- 
ment when  his  diamond  came  to  view. 

It  was  a  neat  bit  of  work  and  Skin- 
ski  became  a  solid  success  with  Uncle 
Peter. 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say,  Mr. 
McGowan,  that  you  are  a  commission 
merchant  in  Springfield,  Ohio  ?  "  the 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  97 

Mayor  asked  Skinski  when  the  ap- 
plause had  subsided. 

"  I'm  a  used  to  was,"  Skinski  cor- 
rected. "  There  was  a  time  when  I 
commished  for  fair,  but  the  bogie 
man  caught  me  and  I  lose  all  I  had. 
Since  then  I've  been  trying  to  sell  a 
gold  mine  I  own  out  in  the  Blue 
Hills." 

I  tried  to  sidetrack  Skinski  and  lead 
him  away  from  the  smoking  room,  but 
Uncle  Peter  insisted  upon  hearing 
more  about  those  dreamland  gold 
mines. 

"  I've  got  the  documents  and  every- 
thing to  prove  that  my  claim  is  all  the 
goods,"  Skinski  rattled  on.  "All  it 
needs  is  the  capital  to  work  it  and  it's 
a  bonanza,  sure — isn't  it,  Dodey — I 
mean  Flo ! " 

"  You  betcher  sweet ! "  she  an- 
swered, whereupon  Peaches  and  Aunt 
Martha  had  a  fit  of  coughing  which 
lasted  three  minutes. 

Then  Uncle  Peter  coaxed  Skinski 


98  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

off  in  a  corner  and  there  they  hob- 
nobbed for  fifteen  minutes  while  my 
wife  and  her  aunt  and  I  tried  to  get 
cheerful  and  chatty  with  "  Aunt  Flo," 
but  we  only  succeeded  in  dragging 
from  her  four  reluctant  "  You  betcher 
sweets ! " 

Presently  Uncle  Peter  and  Skinski 
shook  hands  about  something,  and  five 
minutes  later  Bunch's  "  relatives " 
took  their  departure  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  much  internal  applause  on  my 
part. 

"  Mr.  McGowan  is  a  very  accom- 
plished gentleman,"  Uncle  Peter  de- 
cided ;  "  but  handicapped  by  a  most 
depressing  wife,  most  depressing.  The 
Blue  Hills,  eh !  the  Blue  Hills !  Now, 
I  wonder " 

Then  he  began  to  whistle  softly  and 
went  into  the  dining-room. 

Monday  morning,  bright  and  early, 
I  met  Bunch,  and  we  buried  the 
hatchet 

"  I  hope  my  beloved  relatives  didn't 


TflE  MARVEL  OF  TttE  AGE 
THE  WORLD  WONDER 

o, — , 

INO 

3IGNOR. 


A  pretty  hot  line  of  goods,  eh  ! — Page    99 


YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME.  99 

disgrace  me  while  sojourning  in  your 
midst,"  he  chuckled. 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  answered  airily. 
"  Why,  Uncle  Cornelius  was  the  hit 
of  the  season  with  Uncle  Peter, 
though,  of  course,  Aunt  Flora  didn't 
make  good  with  that  '  You  betcher 
sweet ! '  monologue  of  hers.  How 
could  she?  Even  at  that,  she  stands 
better  with  me  than  some  conversa- 
tional queens  I  know  who  get  so  busy 
with  the  gab  they  make  me  dizzy." 

About  noon  Bunch  and  I  ducked 
for  New  Rochelle  to  do  a  bit  of  ad- 
vance work  for  our  show. 

Nobody  knew  us  in  the  town,  so  we 
posed  as  Cameron  &  Connolly,  owners 
of  the  Great  Hall  of  Illusions,  and 
Managers  of  the  World  Wonder  and 
Magic  King,  Signer  Beppo  Petroskin- 
ski,  and  Ma'moselle  Dodo,  the  Orien- 
tal Queen  of  Mystery. 

Pretty  hot  line  of  goods,  eh? 

We  handed  out  the  salve  thing  to 


100  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

all  the  paper  lads  and  they  were  for 
us  good  and  plenty. 

After  our  publicity  department  had 
been  in  operation  for  about  four  hours 
we  began  to  see  the  neighbors  sit  up 
and  notice  us,  and  we  figured  on  about 
a  $1,000  opening. 

"  The  show  will  cost  us  about  $80 
a  day,"  Bunch  financed,  with  a  stran- 
gle hold  on  a  big  green  lead  pencil. 
"  Let's  see !  expenses  say  $500  a  week 
at  the  outside.  Now,  let's  strike  a  low 
average  and  say  we  play  to  $800  a 
night;  that's  $4,800  a  week,  and  two 
matinees  at,  say  $200,  that's  $5,000  on 
the  week,  eh,  John!  That  gives  us  a 
clean  profit  of  $1,500  apiece  for  the 
three  of  us — oh,  aces !  " 

"  It  looks  good  to  me,  Bunch,"  I 
agreed,  and  then  we  went  out  and  or- 
dered some  more  three-sheets  and  a 
flock  of  snipe. 

We  spent  the  whole  day  in  New 
Rochelle,  and  I  reached  home  tired, 
but  enthusiastic. 


YOU   CAN  SEARCH   ME.  IOI 

"John,"  said  Clara  J.  when  we 
were  alone  after  dinner,  "  Uncle  Peter 
says  if  you  will  let  him  have  that 
$5,000  by  Thursday  or  Friday  he  will 
invest  it  where  the  returns  will  be 
enormous ! " 

"  Sure,"  I  answered,  and  I  could 
feel  my  ears  getting  pale ;  "  I'll  hand 
it  over  to  him  Thursday  or  Friday — if 
you  think  it's  best  not  to  invest  it  in 
that  new  house." 

"Oh!  I  really  do!"  she  hurried 
back.  "  You  know  Uncle  Peter  is  so 
careful  and  so  clever  with  his  invest- 
ments. He  told  me  in  strictest  confi- 
dence only  this  morning  that  he  would 
more  than  double  your  money  in  six 
months.  Isn't  that  perfectly  splen- 
did!" 

"  Is  that  the  wonderful  secret  you 
threatened  me  with  ?  "  I  asked  mourn- 
fully. 

"  Oh  no !  "  she  replied ;  "  I  can't  tell 
you  that  till  Wednesday  evening — I 
promised  not  to." 


102  YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME. 

I  guess  I  didn't  sleep  very  well  that 
night,  for  I  had  dreams  of  Uncle  Peter 
chasing  me  with  a  club  all  over  a  thea- 
tre and  making  me  hop  every  seat  in 
the  orchestra,  while  Ma'moiselle  Dodo 
sat  perched  on  the  balcony  rail  and 
screamed,  "  You  betcher  sweet !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JOHN  HENRY  GETS  A  SURPRISE. 

THE  following  day  Bunch  and 
I  attended  to  the  shipping  of 
all  the  scenery  and  props 
and  trick  stuff,  and  we  were  two  busy 
lads,  believe  me. 

On  Wednesday  we  tried  all  day  to 
locate  Skinski,  but  he  avoided  punish- 
ment until  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  when  we  finally  flagged 
him  and  began  to  ask  him  questions. 

"  I've  been  busy  since  Monday,"  he 
explained ;  "  brokers  and  bankers  and 
lawyers,  and  there  are  doings.  Say! 
you're  two  of  the  dead  gamest  sports 
I  ever  bumped  into,  and  no  matter 
what  happens  I'm  for  you  for  keeps !  " 

"  What's  the  reason  for  the  crab 
talk  ?  "  I  asked  sharply.  "  Are  you 


104  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

going  to  give  us  the  sorry  hand  and 
bow  yourself  out  after  we  have  put 
up  every  mazooboe  we  possess  ?  What 
kind  of  a  sour  face  are  you  pulling  on 
us?" 

"  Oh !  pinkies !  "  he  came  back. 
"  Did  I  say  anything  about  quitting 
you  ?  Why,  I  wouldn't  give  you  guys 
a  cold  deal  not  for  Morgan's  bank  roll. 
I  only  wanted  to  prepare  you  for  cer- 
tain big  happenings  in  case  there  are 
real  doings  with  that  gold  mine  out  in 
the  Blue  Hills." 

"  Sush !  "  I  laughed ;  "  then  it's  only 
the  hasheesh.  But,  Skinski,  on  the 
level,  I  do  wish  you'd  quit  smoking 
those  No.  4's;  they'll  ruin  your  im- 
agination." 

"  Wait  and  see,"  smirked  Skinski. 
"And,  by  the  way,  nephew  Bunch,  I 
met  a  certain  old  party  this  morning 
who  thinks  you  are  very  hot  fried 
parsnips !  " 

"  You  did,"  Bunch  came  back,  with 
a  yawn. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME.  IO$ 

"  Yes,"  replied  Skinski ;  "  and  a  nice 
old  man,  too,  is  Mr.  William  Grey.' 

"  Where  the  devil  did  you  meet  Mr. 
Grey  ?  "  Bunch  inquired  excitedly. 

"  Back,  back  up ! "  said  Skinski 
quietly ;  "  I  didn't  disgrace  my  family. 
Mr.  Peter  Grant  introduced  me  to 
him  as  your  Uncle  and  I  made  good." 

"  You  met  Uncle  Peter,  too ! "  I 
asked  in  alarm. 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,"  said 
Skinski ;  "  but,  don't  worry.  The  Jef- 
ferson family  tree  will  never  be  blown 
down  by  any  hot  air  from  me,  so  rest 
easy.  Now,  let's  get  down  to  cases 
about  our  opening  Thursday  night." 

Bunch  and  I  were  both  puzzled  by 
Skinski's  peculiar  line  of  talk,  but  we 
forgot  it  and  completed  all  the  details 
for  the  opening  the  next  night. 

It  was  after  eight  o'clock  when  I 
reached  home,  and  Peaches  met  me  at 
the  door  with  the  face  lights  on  full. 

"  Now  for  the  secret !  "  she  chirped, 


106          YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

as  she  dragged  me  into  the  dining- 
room. 

"  Make  mine  a  small  one,"  I  admon- 
ished ;  "  I've  had  a  busy  day." 

"  This  is  a  cure  for  all  your  business 
worries,"  she  gurgled.  "  Guess  what, 
John !  We  sail  for  Europe  next  Wed- 
nesday !  " 

"  Poor  Peaches !  "  I  said  sympathet- 
ically ;  "  that's  what  you  get  for  drink- 
ing too  much  tea." 

"  I  mean  it  seriously,  John !  "  she 
cried  eagerly.  "  Uncle  Peter  has 
booked  passages  on  the  Oceanic  for 
the  whole  family,  and  he  is  going  to 
pay  all  the  expenses  for  a  three 
months'  trip." 

"  Water !  water !  "  I  gasped  faintly, 
and  I  meant  it,  but  Peaches  thought  I 
was  only  cutting  up. 

"  I  knew  you'd  be  delighted,"  she  ca- 
pered on ;  "  and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to 
keep  from  telling  you  long  ago.  Un- 
cle Peter  says  that  this  is  the  dull  sea- 
son in  your  brokerage  business  and 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH   ME.         107 

the  trip  will  do  you  a  world  of  good. 
You  need  only  take  a  few  hundred  dol- 
lars for  pocket  money,  and  he's  going 
to  invest  your  $5,000  where  it  will  be 
immensely  productive." 

I  could  only  sit  and  listen  and  pass 
away. 

What  would  become  of  Skinski  and 
Bunch  and  our  good  money ! 

How  could  I  ever  account  for  the 
missing  funds  without  leading  Peaches 
down  to  Wall  Street  and  showing  her 
the  tall  buildings  they  had  built  with 
my  dough. 

And  while  these  dismal  thoughts 
ran  through  my  mind  Peaches 
grabbed  that  European  trip  between 
her  pearly  teeth  and  shook  the  de- 
lights out  of  it. 

That  night  I  had  an  attack  of  in- 
somnia, neurasthenia,  nervous  pros- 
tration and  the  nightmare,  with  cine- 
matograph pictures  on  the  side. 

All  night  long  Skinski  had  me  on 
the  stage  in  a  wicker  basket,  while 


108          YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

Uncle  Peter  jabbed  a  sword  through 
me  and  Dodo  sat  in  the  front  row  on 
the  aisle  yelling  "  You  betcher  sweet  \  " 

Thursday  broke  clear  and  cloudless. 
Just  before  I  left  home  for  the  fatal 
scene  Peaches  said,  "  I'm  so  sorry  bus- 
iness will  keep  you  in  the  city  this 
evening,  John ;  but  of  course  I  realize 
you  have  much  to  do  before  we  sail 
on  Wednesday.  Alice  Grey  just 
phoned  over  that  she  has  a  box  at  a 
theatre  somewhere,  I  didn't  ask  her 
where,  but  if  you're  sure  you  won't 
be  home  I'll  go  with  Alice  and  Aunt 
Martha." 

"  By  all  means,"  I  answered,  and 
kissing  her  good-bve  I  trolleyed  to 
New  Rochelle. 

Bunch  was  there  ahead  of  me  and 
so  were  Skinski  and  Ma'moiselle 
Dodo,  all  working  like  beavers. 

"I'm  going  to  take  the  11:40  to 
town,"  Skinski  informed  us  after  all 
was  in  readiness  for  the  performance. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  109 

"  I  have  a  very  important  date,  haven't 
I,  Dodey?" 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  she  puffingly 
replied. 

"  But  I'll  be  back  before  six  o'clock 
and  I'll  give  'em  the  show  of  my  life," 
Skinski  continued.  "  How's  the  sale  ?  " 

"  There's  a  three  hundred  dollar  ad- 
vance sale,"  Bunch  replied ;  "  and 
Pietro  in  the  box  office  says  we're 
good  for  a  five  or  six  hundred  dollar 
window  sale  if  it's  a  fine  night.  You 
can  gamble  we've  let  'em  know  we're 
in  town,  all  right !  " 

"  Right !  "  chirped  Skinski.  "  You're 
the  best  bunch  of  managers  I  ever 
roomed  with  and  nothing's  too  good 
for  you.  I'm  for  the  1 1 140  thing  now, 
so  you  better  rent  a  stall  in  the  local 
hotel  and  rest  up  till  show  time.  How 
about  you,  Dodey?  Are  you  for 
hunting  a  thirst-killing  palace  and  get- 
ting busy  with  a  dipper  of  suds  ?  " 

"  You   betcher   sweet !  "   the   large 


110  YOU    CAN    SEARCH    ME. 

lady  replied,  and  with  that  she  grabbed 
Skinski's  arm  and  they  left  us  flat. 

Bunch  and  I  loafed  around  till 
about  an  hour  before  show  time,  when 
we  put  a  young  chap  we  had  sworn  to 
secrecy  on  the  door,  and  then  we  went 
back  on  the  stage  and  began  to  chatter 
nervously. 

At  seven  o'clock  Dodo  came  in  with 
one  of  those  sunburst  souses,  and  as 
she  went  sailing  by  to  her  dressing 
room  she  gave  us  the  haughty  head 
and  murmured,  "You  betcher  sweet!  " 

Seven  thirty  and  no  Skinski. 

I  was  nervous,  but  I  wasn't  a 
marker  to  Bunch.  He  had  long  since 
graduated  from  biting  his  finger  nails, 
and  was  now  engaged  in  eating  the 
brim  of  his  opera  hat. 

Seven  forty-five  and  no  Skinski. 

I  was  afraid  to  tell  Bunch  what  I 
was  thinking,  and  Bunch  was  afraid 
to  think  for  fear  he'd  spill  something. 

Eight  o'clock  came  and  still  no 
Skinski. 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  HI 

It  was  pitiful. 

I  began  to  see  visions  of  an  insulted 
audience  reaching  for  my  collar  over 
the  prostrate  form  of  my  partner  in 
crime. 

An  usher  came  back  at  8:10  and 
told  us  the  house  was  full. 

I  grinned  at  him  foolishly  and 
Bunch  fell  over  a  stage  brace  and  dis- 
graced himself. 

At  8:15  the  orchestra  leader  came 
up  to  see  why  we  didn't  ring  in  and 
Bunch  told  him  to  ring  off. 

I  told  Beethoven,  or  whatever  his 
name  was,  to  tune  up  and  play  every- 
thing in  sight  till  I  gave  him  the  warn- 
ing. 

At  8:20  Ma'moiselle  Dodo  waltzed 
out  of  her  dressing  room  made  up  to 
look  like  a  cream  puff. 

"Where's  Skinski?"  I  shrieked. 
"  It's  nearly  8 130  and  he's  keeping 
that  mob  waiting.  Isn't  he  going  to 
show  up ! " 


112  YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  she  gurgled, 
and  passed  on. 

At  8:25  I  rushed  into  Skinski's 
dressing  room,  put  on  a  swift  make- 
up, dove  into  Skinski's  fright  wig,  hid 
my  face  behind  a  false  moustache  and 
goatee,  and  prepared  to  sell  my  life 
dearly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? " 
asked  Bunch  in  wild  alarm. 

"  I'm  going  out  and  pull  a  few 
mouldy  tricks  till  Skinski  gets  here," 
I  answered  heroically. 

Then  I  gave  the  warning  to  the 
leader  and  rang  up  the  curtain. 

I  was  greeted  by  a  harsh  round  of 
applause  as  I  stepped  out  and  I  could 
feel  both  knees  get  up  and  leave  my 
legs. 

I  pulled  myself  together,  picked  up 
a  pack  of  cards  and  began  to  do  things 
with  the  deck  that  no  mortal  man  ever 
saw  before,  while  Bunch  stood  in  the 
wings  with  his  teeth  chattering  so 


I  was  so  surprised  I  dropped 
the  egg. — Page  113 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  113 

loud  they  sounded  like  a  pedestal  clog 
accompaniment. 

Then  I  picked  up  an  egg  where 
Skinski  had  placed  it  on  the  tabaret 
and  started  in  to  do  something  myste- 
rious with  it. 

Just  as  I  raised  the  egg  to  show  it 
to  the  audience  I  got  a  flash  of  the 
stage  box  on  my  right,  and  there, 
gazing  curiously  at  me,  sat  Peaches 
and  Alice  Grey  and  Aunt  Martha. 

I  was  so  surprised  I  dropped  the 
egg,  and  it  lay  at  my  feet  in  the  form 
of  an  omelet,  while  the  house  roared 
with  joy. 

At  this  moment  Skinski  bounded  on 
the  stage,  bowed  right  and  left,  and 
in  five  words  he  made  it  appear  that 
I  was  only  a  comedy  curtain  raiser. 

Say!  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see 
anybody  in  all  my  life. 

I  backed  off  the  stage,  and  he  pulled 
something  on  my  exit  that  got  an 
awful  laugh. 

I  didn't  care.     I  was  so  delighted 


114  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

that  Skinski  was  there  that  I  nearly 
hugged  Dodo. 

And  he  gave  them  their  money's 
worth,  all  right.  He  flashed  a  line  of 
hot  illusions  that  had  them  groggy  in 
short  order. 

When  the  curtain  finally  fell  Skinski 
was  given  an  ovation,  and  when  it  was 
all  over  we  backed  into  his  dressing- 
room  and  sat  looking  at  each  other. 

"  That's  the  last,"  our  star  said, 
after  a  pause ;  "  and  it  was  a  hot  finish 
all  right." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  gasped. 

"  The  syndicate  has  bought  my  gold 
mine  in  the  Blue  Hills,"  he  answered 
calmly. 

"  And  you're  going  to  throw  us 
after  making  a  start  like  this?" 
Bunch  almost  sobbed. 

"  Throw  nothing !  "  Skinski  came 
back.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  once  before 
that  I  am  for  you  two  guys  all  the 
old  while— didn't  I,  Dodey?  " 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  115 

"  You  betcher  sweet ! "  she  an- 
swered solemnly. 

"Well,  that  still  goes,"  Skinski 
went  on.  "  I've  sold  out  a  half  inter- 
est in  my  Blue  Hill  gold  mine,  and 
I've  got  the  coin  to  show  for  it." 

So  saying,  he  dug  up  a  wad  that  a 
hound  couldn't  leap  over. 

"  Now,  I'm  going  to  pay  you  each 
$6,000  to  cancel  my  contract,"  Skinski 
added,  after  our  eyes  had  feasted  on 
his  roll. 

I  looked  at  Bunch,  and  Bunch  was 
stepping  on  his  left  foot  to  see  if  he 
was  awake. 

"  No,  by  Hick !  I'll  make  it  seven 
thousand  each,"  Skinski  chortled. 
"  You  two  guys  put  up  your  last  dol- 
lar on  me,  and  you  didn't  know 
whether  I  was  an  ace  or  a  polish.  I 
like  you  both,  for  you  brought  me 
good  luck.  Tear  up  the  contract  and 
take  $7,000  apiece,  is  it  a  go  ?  " 

"Just  as  you  say,  Skinski,"  I  an- 


Il6  YO.U   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

swered  nervously.  "  Of  course,  if  you 
want  the  tour  to  continue,  why " 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  Bunch  chimed  in ; 
"if  you  want  the  tour  to  continue, 
why " 

"Oh!  pinkies!"  said  Skinski; 
"  what  do  I  want  to  go  hugging  one- 
night  stands  for  when  I  have  a  hun- 
dred thousand  booboos  in  the  kick. 
It's  the  Parisian  boulevards  for  us, 
and  a  canter  on  the  Boy  Bologna,  eh, 
Dodey?" 

"  You  betcher  sweet !  "  she  gurgled 
thirstily. 

And  so  it  came  about  that  we  de- 
stroyed the  contract,  pocketed  our 
seven  thousand  each,  and  bade  Skinski 
and  Dodo  an  affecting  farewell. 

Bunch  and  I  couldn't  talk  for  hours 
afterwards. 

We  were  afraid  we'd  wake  our- 
selves up. 

When  I  reached  home  Clara  J. 
started  in  to  tell  me  what  a  delightful 
time  she  had  had  at  the  New  Rochelle 


YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME.  1IJ 

theatre,  and  how  clever  the  magician 
was,  and  what  a  funny  clown  came 
out  first  and  smashed  a  real  egg  on 
the  stage,  but  I  begged  off  and  went 
to  bed. 

I  never  slept  so  soundly  in  all  my 
life. 

Next  day  I  handed  the  five  thou- 
sand dollars  to  Uncle  Peter,  and  he 
complimented  me  so  highly  on  my 
ability  to  save  money  that  I  nearly 
swallowed  my  palate. 

"  I'm  going  to  invest  this  carefully 
for  you,  John,"  he  informed  me. 
"  When  we  return  from  Europe  you'll 
be  surprised." 

I  don't  know  what  powers  of  per- 
suasion Bunch  brought  to  bear  on 
Alice  and  Uncle  William,  but  I  do 
know  that  there  was  a  hurried  wed- 
ding ceremony,  and  that  a  certain 
blushing  bride  and  bashful  groom  and 
a  delighted  old  Uncle  who  answered 
roll  call  when  you  yelled  Bill  Grey 


Il8  YOU   CAN   SEARCH    ME. 

took  passage  that  next  Wednesday 
with  us  on  the  Oceanic. 

I  was  promenading  the  deck  with 
Peaches  and  Uncle  Peter  after  we  had 
been  out  two  days  when  the  old  gen- 
tleman said,  "  John,  aren't  you  curious 
to  know  how  I  invested  your  money  ?  " 

"  Not  particularly,"  I  answered 
with  a  laugh. 

"  John  knows  it  is  perfectly  safe  in 
your  hands,"  Peaches  beamed. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Uncle 
Peter.  "  Bill  Grey  and  myself  cele- 
brated the  finish  of  our  long  quarrel 
by  going  into  a  little  business  deal  to- 
gether." 

"  Fine !  "  I  said  approvingly. 

"  We  buried  the  hatchet,"  Uncle  Pe- 
ter went  on,  "  by  investing  together  in 
a  gold  mine." 

"  Where  ?  "  I  asked  nervously. 

"  We  formed  a  little  syndicate  and 
bought  a  half -interest  in  a  mine  owned 
by  Bunch's  Uncle  McGowan,  out  in 
the  Blue  Hills!" 


YOU    CAN   SEARCH    ME.  1 19 

"And  is  that  where  you  invested 
my  few  plunks  ?  "  I  asked,  forcing  my- 
self to  be  calm. 

"  That's  it,"  chuckled  Uncle  Peter, 
"and  that's  where  Bill  Grey  has  in- 
vested $5,000  for  Bunch." 

I  excused  myself  and  said  I  didn't 
feel  like  promenading — the  undertow 
made  me  dizzy. 

I  went  off  by  my  lonesome  and 
looked  across  the  troubled  sea. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  hear  a 
voice  coming  from  far  away  behind 
that  biggest  wave,  and  the  voice  said, 
"  You  betcher  sweet !  " 


HUGH  McHUGH'S 

EIGHT  FAMOUS  BOOKS 

Over  525,000  Copies  Sold 

"YOU  CAN  SEARCH  ME" 

FIJtUT  EDITION  25,OOO  COPIES  SOLD 

"  I'M  FR.OM  MISSOURI " 

35,OOO  COPIES  SOLD 

"I  NEED  THE  MONEY" 

45,000  COPIES  SOLD 

"OUT  FOR  THE  COIN" 

50,000  COPIES  SOLD 

"BACK  TO  THE  WOODS" 

6o,OOO  COPIES  SOLD 

"IT'S  UP  TO  YOU" 

80,OOO  COPIES  BOLD 

"DOWN  THE  LINE  WITH 
JOHN  HENRY" 

80,OOO  COPIES  SOLD 

"JOHN  HENRY" 

150,000  COPIES  SOLD 


The  Eight  Books  are  Illustrated.    Cloth  bound 
Gilt  Top,  75  Cents  Each 

For  salt  by  all  Booksellers  or  sent  by  mall 
POSTAGE  FREE,  on  receipt  of  price  by 

Q.W.  DILLINQHAM  CO.,  Publishers 
119-121  West  a3d  St.,  New  York 

i 


"I'm  from  Missouri"  fully 
kept  up  the  reputation  of 
the  John  Henry  books. 
From  the  day  it  was  pub- 
lished, for  six  months  fol- 
lowing, there  was  no  let- 
up in  the  popular  demand 
for  it. 


CONTENTS  OF 
"I'M    FROM    MISSOURI." 

JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  CHOICE. 
JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  STATEMENT. 
JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  SPEECH. 
JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  COMPACT. 
JOHN   HENRY  MAKES  A  NOTE. 
JOHN  HENRY  MAKES  A  HOLIDAY. 
JOHN  HENRY  MAKES   A  MAYOR, 
ii 


"John  Henry  in  the  role  of  campaign 
manager  as  he  appears  in  '  I'm  from  Mis- 
souri/ is  the  same  breezy,  unconventional, 
amusing  personage  we  have  known  in  years 
past.  He  always  keeps  abreast  of  the  times, 
in  the  very  van,  in  truth.  His  language  is 
up  to  date,  he  gathers  no  moss,  he  is  al- 
ways doing  and  saying  the  unexpected,  and 
somehow  he  always  manages  to  win  out. 
The  book  is  full  of  fun  and  cannot  fail  to 
make  many  new  friends  for  the  inimitable 
John  Henry  and  his  wife,  Clara  J.,  or 
Peaches." — Newark  Evening  News. 

"  A  quantity  of  choice  and  original  slang 
is  poured  forth  in  a  bewildering  stream  in 
this,  the  seventh,  volume  of  'John  Henry,' 
whose  author  bids  fair  to  rival  she  of  the 
'  Elsie '  books  in  his  penchant  for  clinging 
to  one  character.  The  description  of  the 
hero's  trials  with  the  various  cooks  and  the 
burlesque  directions  for  running  an  auto- 
mobile are  mildly  amusing.  Here  is  a  sam- 
ple: 'I  gave  him  his  final  instructions. 
Now,  Uncle  Peter,  I  said,  grab  that  wheel 
in  front  of  you  firmly  with  both  hands  and 
put  one  foot  on  the  accelerator.  Now,  put 
the  other  foot  on  the  rheostat  and  let  the 
left  elbow  gently  rest  on  the  deodizer.  Keep 
the  rubber  tube  connecting  with  the  auto- 


matic  fog-whistle  closely  between  the  teeth, 
and  let  the  right  elbow  be  in  touch  with 
the  quadruplex,  while  the  apex  of  the  left 
knee  is  pressed  over  the  spark-coil  and  the 
right  ankle  works  the  condenser.  Start  the 
driving  wheels,  repeat  slowly  the  name  of 
your  favorite  coroner  and  leave  the  rest  to 
fate ! ' " — The  Designer. 

"'I'm  from  Missouri'  presents  John 
Henry  as  campaign  manager  for  '  Uncle 
Pete,'  who  is  running  for  mayor  against 
'Uncle  William,'  backed  by  'Bunch.'  The 
reappearance  of  these  well-known  char- 
acters brings  joy  to  the  hearts  of  the 
laughter-loving  public,  and  as  a  political 
satirist  the  author  wins  out  once  more. 
Most  funny  men  lose  their  originality,  but 
Hugh  McHugh  is  ever  ready  with  some- 
thing new.  He  is  slangy  and  thoroughly 
up-to-date,  but  never  coarse." — Bookseller, 
Newsdealer  and  Stationer. 

"Those  who  enjoy  the  John  Henry  books 
may  count  upon  a  most  enjoyable  evening 
when  reading  No.  7  of  the  series,  just  out. 
As  a  story  this  is  the  best  of  the  seven,  and 
in  quaint  conceptions  and  expressions  it  is 
fully  as  clever  as  any  of  its  six  predeces- 
sors."— Four-Track  News.  9 
iv 


"I  NEED  THE  MONEY"  was  a  big 
winner  from  the  jump.  The  interest  taken 
in  the  Series  of  "John  Henry"  books  by  the 
general  public  is  really  remarkable. 


CONTENTS  OF 
I  NEED  THE  MONEY." 

JOHN  HENRY'S  PAL. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PLAN. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PICNIC. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PLUNGE. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PIPE. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PILGRIMS. 
JOHN  HENRY'S  PIE. 


What  the  Critics  Say. 

The  author  of  "  I  Need  the  Money,"  the  new 
"John  Henry"  book,  who  is  George  V.  Hobart, 
a  former  Baltimore  newspaper  man,  is,  beyond 
doubt,  one  of  the  most  popular  of  modern  slang 
humorists;  more  so,  probably,  than  Ade,  and 
with  his  "  Dinkelspiel"  stuff  almost  as  much  as 
Dunne.— Brooklyn  Eagle, 

George  V.  Hobart,  the  New  York  journalist, 
is  a  versatile  humorist.  As '  'Dinkelspiel"  he  is  an 
irresistibly  funny  German,  full  of  philosophy  but 
hopelessly  tangled  in  his  rhetoric.  As  the  author 
"  John  Henry  "  and  other  humorous  productions 
he  has  been  an  acute  man  of  the  street  and  of 
the  rapid  avenues  of  life  with  all  the  up-to- 
dateness  of  slang  that  is  one  of  the  chief  con- 
comitants of  such  worldly  wisdom.  Mr.  Hobart 
therefore  has  strings  enough  to  his  bow  to 
warrant  the  prediction  that  he  will  wear  much 
longer  than  the  average  funny  man  has  lasted 
under  the  strain  of  humor  to  order.  The  G.  W. 
Dillingham  Company  has  just  issued  a  volume  of 
"  Eppy  Grams  by  Dinkelspiel"  that  is  full  of 
laugh  from  cover  to  cover,  and  another  "John 
Henry  "  book,  entitled  "  I  Need  the  Money,"  in 
which  readers  can  find  delight  in  Mr.  Hobart's 
humor  in  the  other  vein.  The  pages  of  the 
"  Dinkelspiel "  book  are  brightened  with  borders 
of  red,  and  the  other  book  is  illustrated. 

— Milwaukee  Wisconsin. 
3 


"  I  Need  the  Money,"  the  sixth  of  the  "  Hugh 
McHugh"  books,  is  capital,  like  its  fellows. 
The  laugh  lies  beneath  the  bewildering  fantastics 
of  slang.  It  cannot  be  analyzed,  for  really  there 
is  nothing  tangible  to  account  for  the  laugh  save 
the  surprise  of  the  delightful  argot.  For 
example,  some  people  may  not  think  it  funny  to 
read  of  six-story  flats  with  10x12  rooms  as 
"people-coops."  Others  with  livelier  imagina- 
tions will  hold  their  sides  over  this. 

— San  Francisco  Call. 

The  latest  of  the  "John  Henry"  books  has 
the  title,  "  I  Need  the  Money,"  which  seems  to 
be  attractive  enough  for  a  much  larger  book. 
These  little  volumes,  of  which  two  appear  every 
year,  have  had  a  circulation  such  as  to  make  the 
mouths  of  the  standard  novelists  water.  They 
are  to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and 
the  author's  large  profits  are  justified,  because  he 
has  given  the  people  something  they  want, 
something  they  can  appreciate,  and  particularly 
something  they  can  enjoy.  In  the  preface  he 
announces  a  sale  of  over  400,000  of  the  first  five 
volumes,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  the  sixth 
should  not  make  a  record.  It  is  one  of  "  Hugh 
McHugh's"  agreeable  tales,  told  with  much 
dash  and  appropriately  illustrated  with  a  lot  of 
character  heads.  The  sort  of  book  to  pick  up 
and  enjoy  at  any  time. — Philadelphia  Inquirer, 

4 


No  matter  how  bad  "  John  Henry's  "  predica- 
ment may  be,  he  has  the  happy  faculty  of  seeing 
a  bright,  which  means  a  humorous,  side.  Cer- 
tainly he  gets  into  difficulties  in  "  Hugh 
McHugh's"  latest  book  about  him,  "I  Need 
the  Money,"  but  in  no  volume  of  the  series  is 
"  John  Henry  "  more  persistently  and  amusingly 
jolly. — Newark  News. 

George  V.  Hobart,  alias  "  Dinkelspiel,"  has, 
in  the  "John  Henry"  books,  given  us  some  of 
the  best  and  most  spontaneous  humor  of  the 
age. — Four-Track  News. 


JOHN  HENRY,  Hugh  McHugh'fe 
first  book,  reached  the  25,000 
mark  two  weeks  after  it  was 
published.  It's  popularity  since 
then  has  been  unprecedented. 

"  John  Henry's  philosophy  is  of  the  most 
approved  up-to-date  brand.  He  is  by  all 
odds  a  young  man  of  the  period;  he  is  a 
man  about  town.  He  is  a  slang  artist;  a 
painter  of  recherche  phrases;  a  maker  of 
tart  Americanisms. 

In  this  book — it  is  "little,  but  oh  my!" — 
John  Henry  recounts  some  of  his  adven- 
tures about  town,  and  he  interlards  his  des- 
criptive passages  with  impressive  comments 
on  the  men,  women,  institutions,  and  places, 
brought  within  his  observant  notice.  We 
need  not  say  that  his  comments  are  highly- 
colored;  nor  that  his  descriptions  are  r 
markable  for  expressiveness  and  colloquial 
piquancy.  Mr.  Henry  is  a  sort  of  refined 
and  sublimated  type  of  "Chimmie  Fadden," 
though  there  is  by  no  means  anything  of  the 
gamin  about  him.  He  doesn't  speak  in  rich 
coster  dialect  such  as  is  used  by  Mr.  Town- 
send's  famous  character,  nor  is  he  a  mem- 

I 


ber  of  the  same  social  set  as  the  popular 
hero  of  the  New  York  slums.  Mr.  Henry 
moves  on  a  higher  plane,  he  uses  good 
English — mostly  in  tart  superlatives — and 
his  associates  are  of  a  high  social  scale. 

Mr.  Henry's  adventures  as  he  describes 
them  here  will  make  you  wonder  and  make 
you  laugh. 

His  book  abounds  in  bon-mots  of  slang; 
of  the  kind  you  hear  in  the  theatres  when 
the  end-men,  comedians  and  monologuists 
are  at  their  wittiest  and  best,  when  they 
revel  in  mad  and  merry  extravagances  of 
speech  and  experience. 

It  is  an  art  to  use  street-talk  with  force 
and  terseness,  and  although  it  isn't  the  most 
elegant  phase  of  the  Queen's  English  it 
nevertheless  impresses  to  the  Queen's  taste. 
Hugh  McHugh  has  this  art." — Philadelphia 
Item. 

"  John  Henry  "  is  only  one  of  the  numer- 
ous young  men  who  are  treating  the  public 
to  the  latest  slang  through  the  medium  of 
print  nowadays,  but  he,  unlike  most  of  the 
others,  is  original  in  his  phrases,  has  the 
strong  support  of  the  unexpected  in  his  hu- 
mor and  causes  many  a  good  laugh.  For 
one  thing,  he  merely  tries  to  make  fun, 
wisely  avoiding  the  dangers  of  tediousness 
ii 


In  endeavoring  to  utter  immature  wisdom  in 
the  language  of  the  brainless. 

"  The  author,  Huph  McHugh,  is  thought 
to  be  Mr.  George  V.  Hobart.  Certain  it  is 
that  the  writer  is  a  Baltimorean,  past  or 
present;  the  local  references  evidence  that. 
In  some  places  the  expressions  have  the 
Hobart  ring  to  them.  But  if  Mr.  Hobart 
did  write  the  stories,  he  has  done  his  best 
work  of  the  kind  yet." — Baltimore  Herald. 

"The  humor  is  of  the  spontaneous  sort 
that  runs  close  to  truth,  and  it  affords  many 
a  hearty  laugh." — Cleveland  World. 

"  As  a  study  in  slang  it  surpasses  any- 
thing since  the  days  of  ' Artie.'"— The 
Rocky  Mountain  News. 

"  Written  in  the  choicest  slang."— Detroit 
Free  Press. 

"John  Henry."  A  regular  side-splitter, 
and  as  good  as  "  Billy  Baxter." — New  York 
Press. 

"  It  is  as  good  as  any  of  the  books  of  its 
kind,  better  than  most  of  them,  and  is 
funny  without  being  coarse." — Portage 
Register. 

iii 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


A     000  606  473 


